


Summer's Son in Winter's Garb

by Hermaline75



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Intersex Jotunn (Marvel), Jotun Loki, Jotun Thor, Jotunheim Won the War, M/M, Role Reversal, Sickfic, but very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-01 00:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 40,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15763062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: After a visit to a neighbouring realm, Thor develops a strange illness on his return to Jotunheim.





	1. Part One - Loki

**Author's Note:**

> [Arrives to the Jotun!Thor trend three months late with no beverage.]
> 
> This was meant to be a one-shot but then I had IDEAS.

It all started once they'd been to Alfheim.

Loki had no idea why they were sent. There didn't seem to be a reason except that Laufey thought relations with the elves could be closer and that the best way to do that would be in person.

The crown prince of Jotunheim and his slightly younger companion had been warmly welcomed. And he did mean warmly. How they had laughed at the thick blankets upon the beds when surely in this heat a thin sheet would be more than enough.

Loki had relished the chance to cause a stir in a way he seldom got to at home, swaying his way around the elves' palace in barely more than a loincloth and jewels.

"It's very warm," he said whenever anyone looked at him too long. "I'm afraid I simply couldn't abide the feel of fabric against my skin in this climate."

He knew the effect he had. Plains of azure skin, the intriguing paths of his lean muscles disappearing behind his scant clothes. The admiring stares, the open longing. It was fun to tease them away from Father's disapproving gaze.

He even catches Thor glancing at him a little more often than usual. No amount of Laufey insisting that they behave as brothers could hide the fact that they were not blood. Runts, they might be, sharing a height and a propensity for hair that most others did not, but otherwise they couldn't appear more different.

Thor's hair was a shock of white blonde, wild and tangled more often than not, where Loki's was black as a shadow in the deepest mine, kept smooth and neat, perfect for showing off the gems and crystals their realm was known for.

And his skin... Poor Thor was so pale. The watery blue of a summer morning, nothing to the deep shade of Loki's own.

There was no mistaking which of them was the prince and which an adopted ward. Laufey had apparently thought it would be good for him to have a friend of the same stature. After a few false starts in their adolescence, unsure and mistrustful, they had become almost inseparable and now sometimes Father obviously regretted finding him a partner in... Not crime exactly; more like hijinks.

And Thor was not entirely unattractive. Loki would never admit it out loud, but he was somewhat jealous of his build from time to time. Wide shoulders, strong limbs, closer to the Giants' ideal. It was no wonder that he was often mistaken for Loki's bodyguard rather than the noble rank to which he had been elevated.

Thor kept his more formal attire despite the temperature. Knew he couldn't compete, no doubt. Poor thing.

"You don't need to bundle up so," Loki said on the third morning of their visit, tying his hair up to keep it off his neck. "It is dreadfully warm after all."

"I don't find it so. Not particularly."

He was so self-conscious! No doubt there would be someone out there who would take a real fancy to him one day.

One of the elven princesses, Sannheta, was very interested for one, cornering Thor during the evening revelry. Loki was slightly perturbed, but perhaps she was offended by his scandalous attire, an almost-sheer robe with silver embroidery, and wanted to make a point. Thor barely had his collarbone showing.

It was a nice enough collarbone, he supposed. If you liked that kind of thing.

"You must tell me of your lineage, Duke Thor," she said, drink in hand. "I thought I knew all of Laufey's cousins and their children, but perhaps not."

Thor shifted a little uncomfortably. On the spot, as it were.

"I have none, your majesty," he said, his deep voice pitched low, like he was trying not to let any others hear. "I am an orphan. My title was gifted to me by King Laufey."

Though he didn't speak of it often, Loki could tell it pained him to be so inferior. And no wonder. Being built as they were was bad enough without other whispers making their way around the palace, words of unearned privilege, rumours of parenthood.

"Oh, I see. From the last war, I take it?"

"Indeed, majesty. One of many. Victory still leaves its scars."

Loki raised his eyebrows as she laid a presumptive hand on Thor's arm, deep brown skin against his paleness, sliding her fingers beneath the sleeve of his tunic. My, weren't we overfamiliar?

"I'm very sorry," she said.

And then she was gone, swishing away in a swirl of silks and veils.

"I think she likes you," Loki murmured, seizing them a drink each from a passing servant.

"I don't know what you mean," Thor said, his cheeks turning a little purple.

"Well, I won't tell anyone if you don't. Who could blame us for a little dalliance? It's not like we have anyone suitable waiting at home."

He was only teasing, hardly serious, but Thor sighed, taking a goblet from him.

"She's not suitable for me and you know it," he said. "She's a mature woman and a princess besides. I'm just... me. And besides, she scratched me."

He pulled his sleeve up slightly and sure enough, there was a faint mark upon his skin. Nothing to cry about. Barely a graze really.

"An accident," Loki said, shrugging.

"No doubt. I just wouldn't like to feel those nails down my back is all."

That was the Thor he knew, forever making him laugh. Nearly always in good humour.

"Ooh. Very confident if you think you could please her so well as to elicit that reaction. I had no idea you were so experienced."

"I know my own body. How difficult can it be?"

"Ah, but who knows what other people have hidden away under their clothes?"

They giggled like youngsters, behaving terribly. There'd be strong words from Father when they got home. Loki could practically feel it.

"I'm sure they're in no doubt about what you're hiding," Thor said, a fraction more seriously. "Don't you mind them looking?"

"Not at all or I'd dress more like you."

"But aren't you... worried what they might say? Or think?"

"Why would I care?"

Thor adopted a thoughtful expression.

"Fair enough," he said. "I suppose if I looked like you, I would flaunt it too."

A somewhat hidden compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.

He couldn't help but preen a little at his beauty being properly acknowledged. Thor didn't have a false bone in his body. He meant what he said, in a perfectly friendly way.

"We only have one more night here," Loki said, chilling his drink with a pulse of magic from his hand. "How ought we cause trouble?"

Pursed lips, a little frown of consideration.

"I'm sure we'll think of something."

They'd be the ones in trouble when they got home, but maybe it was worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Loki..."

The tone told him all he needed to know about what his father thought of their antics. Of course he'd already heard that Thor had beaten the queen's half-brother, Ingenvet, in a duel that had turned into more of an undignified tussle. Apparently they only did ceremonial fighting in Alfheim and simply tackling one's opponent to the ground was not generally permitted. It was hardly their fault that no one had told them...

"Thor, please leave us."

"Yes, Father."

Loki carefully kept his face blank. Thor never spoke of Laufey as being his parent other than in his presence. Everyone knew it was not true and yet Laufey insisted upon it.

And now that scarlet gaze was turned upon him alone, fingers tapping upon the arm of the throne, letting out a sigh.

"Did you have fun?"

"Yes, Father," he said, offering his sweetest smile.

Another sigh. A heavier one.

"You really need to grow up, Loki. You won't get away with these hijinks forever. I had hoped that the elves might see you as a potential match, but now I hear you had Thor literally rub your suitor's face in the dirt."

It took Loki a moment to absorb what he'd just been told.

"You want me to marry the elf queen's half-brother? But he's so... old."

And if he'd known that was the scheme, maybe he'd have dressed a little more modestly...

"Anyway," he continued. "It wasn't my fault. I'm not Thor's keeper. He's the one who accepted the fight. Take it up with him."

Thor never got in trouble. Thor could do no wrong, it seemed. Somehow everything was Loki's fault, like Laufey couldn't bring himself to punish his ward with anything more than an occasional telling off.

"Thor wouldn't do anything without your approval. We both know that."

This was the real problem. Laufey thought Thor was simple. It was baffling to Loki. It was like he'd taken one look at Thor as a child and never considered that he was going to grow up and grow up clever too.

Though he said it himself, anyone who spent as much time in his company as Thor did would have to become sharp, Loki thought.

He stubbornly remained silent until Laufey waved him away, permission to leave.

There were probably worse things they could have done than accidentally thwart a marriage proposal to an elf twice his age. Loki was too old himself to be sent to his rooms for misbehaving. Consequence-free other than a couple of stern words, his first instinct was to tell Thor what he'd found out. Ask his opinion of it all.

For one thing, it was very underhand of Laufey to send him off in the hopes of getting a marriage out of it. He didn't want to get married. Certainly not to a stranger.

Laufey had never married. Why was it one way for him and another for his son?

He found Thor bathing, a wall of warmth hitting him the moment he opened the door.

Steam everywhere! He could hardly breathe with the humidity.

"Thor?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?"

He was just about visible, reclined against the edge of the bath with steam rising all around him, like some kind of water spirit. Like his legs might be a serpent's tail.

He opened one eye, catching Loki fanning himself.

"Oh... Yes. The elves drew me a hot bath after the sparring match and... Well, I found it very pleasant. I thought I might take it up as a habit. It cleans out the pores. It's probably very healthy."

"I think I'd faint," Loki sniffed. "Come see me when you're finished. You must hear what Father told me."

What a strange thing to be doing. Hot bathing... Healthy or not, it didn't sound very pleasant. Loki was glad to retreat to more civilised temperatures.

He got changed. Travelling clothes were all very well, but he'd feel much more himself if he was more comfortable.

He was plaiting his hair when Thor knocked and entered, all wrapped up in a thick coat.

"You don't have to keep wearing all that," Loki said. "No one's judging you here."

Thor mumbled something about the adjustment between the wash room and beyond, about feeling the cold.

"What did you want to tell me?" he asked.

Loki smirked. He couldn't help it. What a shock it was going to be.

"Well, it turns out Father had some kind of plot in mind for me to go and swoon over the elves. He planned to marry me off to Ingenvet. You know, that bore you bested yesterday? I couldn't have planned a better disruption than that if I'd tried."

To his surprise, Thor wasn't laughing right away.

"Him?" he said, stunned. "But he's twice your age at least! He's almost as old as your father."

"Oh, I know. He should never have challenged you. He never stood a chance. Maybe he thought you were a love rival or something."

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Thor went slightly darker cheeked than normal, looked away and mumbled something half into his clothes.

"Pardon?"

"I'd happily fight anyone you wanted to stop them getting ideas."

"Careful. I might just take you up on that. Father's exasperated, of course. Not with you, don't worry. But it has rattled me a little. I mean, where else might he try to find suitors?"

Thor seemed to consider it, taking a seat on Loki's couch.

"Well..." he said. "I wouldn't have thought any realms had someone of the right age and the right rank, but if he's going that old, he might go a degree younger as well. So Alfheim, Nornheim... Not Muspelheim, evidently. Asgard maybe..."

"Oh, surely not!" Loki protested. "Not an Asgardian. Gross! Can you even imagine? And besides, Hela would kill me in my sleep and the prince... Balder, is it? He's practically still a child, I thought. I'd be so bored."

"You'd be king of two realms," Thor said pointedly. "And with him being so much younger, he'd surely be inclined to bow to your superior knowledge. You'd wrap him round your fingers in minutes."

"Mm. I suppose. They'd expect me to carry the heirs though."

"Is that so bad? Isn't that what you'd do here?"

"Depends on their attitude. They lock up their pregnant wives. Treat them like criminals and invalids. I couldn't stand that."

He wasn't sure why they were even discussing it. Laufey would never try to send him to Asgard. Old One-Eye and him had too much history, too much ice under the surface. There was absolutely no chance of that.

"Hopefully he's decided I'm too immature for now," he said, getting up to examine his dinner outfit in the big mirror. "I should have a few more centuries at least before he tries again."

Thor agreed. And Loki felt a little pang of guilt for his old friend. What would happen to Thor when he was off being wooed and wed and afterwards? Maybe they'd find him a nice duke or viscount to marry. Someone of good standing. Someone suitable for his position in the court, at Loki's side.

He was still all wrapped up at dinner, like he was going outside, and Laufey seemed a little concerned.

"When did this start?"

"I think it's the travelling," Thor said vaguely. "Just tired. Taking a while to get used to it again."

Laufey didn't seem convinced, reaching across to lay a hand against Thor's forehead, frowning lightly and applying a gentle soothing spell.

And that seemed to do the trick. Thor gradually shed layers through the meal until he was almost back to normal.

Must have just been the travelling.


	3. Chapter 3

It was not just the travelling. Thor was sick. No doubt about it.

He didn't appear for breakfast and when Loki went to check on him, he found him still in bed, wrapped in the kinds of fur blankets normally only used in the depths of the harshest winter.

And he was shivering a little...

Awake though. Responsive.

"What's wrong?" Loki asked. "Why are you so cold?"

"I..." and even his voice was shaking. "I don't know. I feel strange all over."

"I'll fetch a healer."

"No! No, I'll be alright, I just need to keep warm. I probably just got cold in the night. It's nothing."

Loki wasn't so sure. This didn't seem normal.

At a loss for what else to do, he slipped into bed beside him, wondering if his meagre body heat might help.

Never mind cold, Thor was _burning..._ Was this a fever? Had he picked something up from the elves? Some strange disease making him very sensitive? Loki didn't know very much about illnesses. He didn't get sick often enough to warrant it. More research was clearly needed.

"No healers," he said carefully. "But how about if I go to the library? See if I can find something that might help."

"Alright. Feels a bit better with you here."

He had stopped shivering. That was something. But they couldn't laze around all day. Not when there was probably a very simple cure available.

"I'll get you some water," Loki said, slipping out of the furnace that was Thor's bed.

"Can you heat it up for me? Please? And maybe... put some herbs in it?"

Loki frowned. "You want to drink hot water with herbs? That sounds vile."

"I have a craving for something... earthy. I don't know why."

Strange temperature, cravings for bizarre tastes? Not wanting healers involved? Surely not...

"Thor, are you pregnant?"

At least he sat up in shock. At least he wasn't totally incapable of moving.

"What?! No! No, of course not. How could I be?"

"Well, I don't keep track of your movements every hour of every day. For all I know, you have a lover hidden away somewhere."

Thor sighed, pulling the blankets tighter about himself.

"No," he said. "No, I'm like you. I couldn't... There's no one who'd..."

"Fit?"

"Exactly. It's... It's not possible."

Maybe now was not the time for teasing. Loki fetched him some water, having to concentrate to warm it what with his powers being more naturally suited to cooling things, and got a grateful smile.

There was distinctly something wrong with Thor's face though. His lips had turned to the palest shade of violet. Like there wasn't enough blood in them.

If he didn't show improvement by the end of the day, he might have to see a healer whether he liked it or not.

The library was not terribly helpful. The well-thumbed tomes on medicine just said fever sometimes came with an infection and was perfectly normal and would pass. But Thor had no other symptoms except being very warm and disliking the cold. He had no cough or confusion or fatigue. He was just cold.

What if it was pregnancy, Loki wondered, turning to the relevant pages. After all, you heard stories, didn't you? It didn't have to be full penetration. There could be... accidents.

Who could it have been? One of the guards maybe? The men Thor trained with and gave as good a fight as he was offered despite his size. Maybe in the baths afterwards, there might be touching...

He did not like that idea. Thor being used like that. He ought to be... respected and courted properly, not just treated as a bit of fun. Especially if one of them had managed to get him... Well. Burdened.

Father would be furious for one thing.

Hmm. It didn't seem likely, based on what he read. Cravings tended to come later. And he'd have noticed if Thor had an extra roundness to him. Right? He'd notice.

Then again, it would explain his penchant for bulky clothes, wouldn't it?

The idea refused to leave Loki's head as he made his way down to sit in on court. He found himself staring at all the guards, wondering about them. Was it you? Did you touch him?

And worse, he suddenly realised that there would be nothing to prevent Thor from penetrating them. Perhaps not a particularly gratifying experience, but then again, he wouldn't know either way.

Or maybe they used their hands.

Loki was fully convinced of it by the midday meal. One of these men had wooed Thor and they'd had an affair and now Thor was in trouble and Loki was going to find out who it was and see that they were punished for being so presumptive as to lay so much as a finger on him.

He looked at the nearest servant's thick fingers and found his head full of images that he might prefer not to have.

Certainly not while sitting next to his father...

"Where's Thor?"

"He's not... Uh... He's not feeling well. I think it's a fever."

"Hm. Well, we should look in on him. Take him some food."

Yes, that made sense. And when they went up, Thor seemed much better. He was out of bed, sitting at his desk, doing some reading.

But it was so hot... He'd lit a fire, which surely he didn't need at this time of year, and he was still dressed for far harsher weather.

Laufey had to duck to enter. Thor's rooms and Loki's were in their own wing and the ceilings had been lowered long ago to make them cozier. It made anyone else coming in look enormous.

"Loki tells me you're not feeling well," he said. "Have you seen the healers?"

"No," Thor said. "But it's probably nothing. I'll be fine. I'm already feeling much better."

Laufey made a sound that suggested he wasn't fully convinced by that, but that he wasn't going to press. Yet.

And Loki knew Thor too well to see him fidget like that and not realise that he was hiding something.


	4. Chapter 4

Later in the afternoon, once his duties were done, Loki decided he ought to confront Thor. Something was going on here and he meant to get to the bottom of it, even if he had to boil. In an effort to avoid that, he stripped to the waist before braving the heat.

Thor looked up when he reentered the room, and then looked away again. He hadn't knocked, to be fair.

"What's going on?" Loki asked, folding his arms and settling down on the edge of Thor's bed.

"Nothing," Thor said immediately. Too quickly, if anything.

This combative approach wasn't good. Or effective. Thor was his oldest and dearest friend. If he was in a less than ideal situation, he should know that he could ask for help.

"It's alright," Loki said. "You don't have to tell me all the details. I don't need to know who it was or anything..."

"Who what was?"

"Your lover."

It sounded ridiculous saying it out loud, and Thor clearly thought so too, laughing and turning in his chair.

"Loki, I'm not pregnant. I told you, I can't be."

"But what if they got... stuff on their hands and then they were touching... These things happen."

A snort from Thor, a shake of his head.

"I've not been like that with anyone," he said. "I swear."

It seemed to be the truth. He wasn't looking away or shuffling in his seat, the obvious tells when he was lying.

"Then what is it? What are you so keen to hide?"

Thor's smile fell immediately, his hand flying to his wrist, tugging down his sleeve. Hmm...

"Nothing," he mumbled.

Loki stood up and went to him, touching his shoulder gently.

"You can tell me," he said. "You can trust me."

Thor had gone a little tense. What could it be? What was he worried about?

Loki waited a few moments before striking, grabbing Thor's hand and yanking back the fabric of his sleeve, getting an outraged cry for his trouble.

But he saw it. A strange mark on Thor's wrist, the usual blue of his skin interrupted by a strange pinkish colour. A bloom of it. Not a rash or anything like that. It wasn't raised up or anything. It was more like a birth mark.

One that had not been there before. Loki was sure of that.

"Happy now?" Thor growled, hiding it again.

"What is it?"

"No idea. It showed up this morning."

Right where he'd been scratched... Could it be...?

"You started feeling strange and now you have a mark and it just happens to be where an elven princess touched you? That seems like quite a coincidence, Thor."

The light scoff couldn't hide it. Thor had thought the very same thing.

"The elves are a friendly realm. Why would Sannheta put any kind of spell on me, let alone an unkind one?"

That was the question. And what was it? A curse? What kind? And why?

"If she wanted to do me harm, for reasons I couldn't possibly fathom, I'm sure she could do better than giving me a strange scar and a need to be warmer than normal."

"Unless this is just the beginning. You also had that strange desire for... watery soup."

"It's still hardly an assassination attempt. Look, I don't want to make a fuss."

No, he never did. He couldn't bear for anyone to think of him as delicate or dainty. Where Loki revelled in being admired and elegant, like a beautiful porcelain statue, Thor was determined to be taken seriously as a warrior despite his size. He didn't want anyone going easy on him. He wanted to be iron and rock.

"At least you're not pregnant," Loki said, retreating from Thor's personal space. "I'd have had to take action if you were."

"What? Against my paramour?"

He was teasing, but Loki was deadly serious.

"Yes. Maybe you don't notice, but I see the way the guards look at you. Some of them. It's not proper."

"Because they ought to be looking at you, I know."

Loki felt his cheeks go very dark suddenly, folding his arms.

"No! Because... Because they shouldn't look at you that way. Because of your rank."

Thor shrugged, turning away.

"My rank is a lie. A gift I was given for being the correct size. Everyone knows it. And I'm grateful, of course, but, well... You can hardly blame people for knowing. Besides, they look at you too, improperly. Can't blame them for that either."

"You are a duke. It's a fact," Loki said stubbornly. "It's not a lie."

"I am not Laufey's son, whatever he says. But that's alright. Really. It doesn't bother me."

He really was a terrible liar sometimes. How long had he felt this way? Like he was... lesser?

Well, in some ways that was true, Loki supposed. A duke was not a prince. Even if something should happen to him, Thor would not be next in the line of succession. At least, he didn't think so. But that didn't mean he was worth less. Or that he had to prove himself.

Let it slide for now. There were more pressing matters to pay attention to.

"We should keep an eye on this," Loki said. "This strange affliction. See if it progresses or changes."

"I don't even feel ill. I feel normal now."

Loki glanced at the fire merrily crackling in the grate, the faint steam coming from the ceiling where the fronds of ice outside were being chased away, the condensation on the windows. It was almost unbearably warm.

And Thor was still in long sleeves and a body wrap.

This was certainly not normal.

"It will pass," Thor insisted. "I'm sure of it."


	5. Chapter 5

It did not pass. Thor practically quarantined himself, only coming out of his boiling room when wrapped up in far too many layers, but usually not at all.

And sometimes, Laufey would frown and feel his head and then for a few hours he'd be better - though Loki noted he never uncovered his arm. Perhaps the mark was not yet gone.

It was strange to be without him, going about the daily tasks of correspondence and hearings and court judgements and council meetings. So often they were together. Not always, of course, but very often. Loki found himself turning to whisper jokes and observances only to find a small, empty chair where Thor ought to be. It was vexing.

He saw him most mornings though, a lump among a pile of thick blankets or wearing one as a cape as he lit his fire, or boiling a pot of water to slake his strange desire for hot liquid.

Sometimes Loki would slip into bed with him. It seemed to calm his shivers somewhat, easing the chill that returned when he damped down his fire for the night. It was nice to be close, even if Thor's body seemed to be constantly very warm.

Loki tried to read about curses. None of them seemed to fit. And while he made excuses for Thor to Father, tried to give him the privacy he wanted, there was no denying that sometimes he thought he ought to tell somebody the full extent of this illness and what he suspected.

Then again, Thor was right. You couldn't go accusing the elves of foul play, especially when they were still annoyed by innocent wrestling etiquette errors. Best to keep it to themselves if they could.

He came through early one morning, finding himself unexpectedly awake and wanting company, burrowing under Thor's covers without so much as asking.

And that was where it started, really. Though in retrospect, maybe it was before then.

Thor mumbled something and rolled over, his white brows furrowed slightly, throwing an arm over Loki's body and sighing happily.

But for some reason, Loki's heart decided to suddenly race off of its own accord. What in the nine was this? Why was his body reacting this way?

There was no doubt about it. Instead of the fuzzy, cosy feeling of being with his dearest friend, his physical side had inexplicably decided that there was some kind of attraction going on between them.

Well, this couldn't be allowed to stand.

Then again...

For the first time in a long time, he took his chance to really look at Thor. No returned gaze. No counter observance.

His forehead. Broad, smooth more or less. Interrupted suddenly by his hair and eyebrows. Fairly wide spread eyes. Beautiful lashes, thick and curled against his cheeks. Not a very strong nose, not like his own, but a stronger jaw perhaps.

And his lips were plusher than Loki had ever noticed before. Not thick so much, more like... full.

It was a moment of madness that made him lean closer and press his own lips to Thor's. Just a peck, nothing more. Just experimenting.

Thor let out the smallest sound, confused, his eyes fluttering open.

It took him a moment, blinking once or twice, licking his lips like he could taste Loki on them.

"We can't," he whispered.

That wasn't what Loki had expected to hear.

"What?"

"We can't do this. Not with you... being who you are."

Had he... Had he thought about this?

"What are you talking about?"

Thor rolled onto his back, making a sort of cocoon of some of his blankets.

"You are the crown prince, even now being squabbled over by the eligible royals and leaders across half the realms. And I'm just... I'm no one. So much as I'd like to... we can't."

It was Loki's turn to blink a little.

"You'd... You'd like to?" he stammered.

Thor sighed, embarrassed.

"You think I don't see you, but I do. Of course I want you. You're stunning. And funny and clever."

"Well, why didn't you say anything?"

A shrug.

"Because I thought you didn't feel the same way. And besides, it can never happen. I'm your father's ward. He'd hang my guts along the ramparts if he knew."

A strange feeling was settling in Loki's whole being. Thor liked him! Thor thought he was beautiful. And more than that.

Maybe all this fear of him being pregnant wasn't concern alone; maybe it was _jealousy..._ Envy that someone else might have...

"What Father doesn't know won't hurt him," he said, a little uncertainly.

Thor let out a hollow laugh.

"There are already plenty of rumours and whispers about us, Loki. I'd rather not add to them."

"There are? Who? And what?"

Thor shrugged again. It seemed to be his answer for everything.

"The guards. They like to tease me. Saying... lewd things. But they generally stop once I've thrashed them a few times."

It was difficult not to swoon. Thor defending his honour against people nearly twice his size. The romance!

Tentatively, he slid closer, laying a hand on Thor's neck.

He wasn't expecting to be kicked in the shin for his trouble.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, sorry... It's just your hand is freezing..."

He was calmer when Loki tried again, sighing slightly, shaking his head.

"We can't."

Loki was not used to not getting what he wanted. And while he understood Thor's position, he wasn't planning on just letting things go so easily.

After all, maybe they couldn't do anything risky, but they could do some things.

Caution was needed though. Seduction was delicate, he imagined.

"Alright," he said, cuddling close. "You're right. I'm sorry I brought it up."

He could feel the tension in Thor's body, even as he held him.

Perhaps his heart was doing some racing of its own.


	6. Chapter 6

Loki tried to be subtle. Almost every morning, he would go to Thor's rooms for cuddles. He wouldn't have if Thor objected, he told himself, but he didn't. In fact, he seemed to quite like having company, extra body heat such as it was. Maybe once this first step of intimacy became the norm, they could progress to other things.

And in the meantime, he had his imagination. He fantasised about declarations of love and desire, devotion and so on, ridiculous florid things that Thor would never really say, but he needed a preamble before picturing nights of passion where stamina was endless and everything was intuitive and perfect.

The reality would be different, he knew. There might be missteps and discoveries. And that would be better because they'd learn such things together, both equally unsure.

But the dreams were nice for now.

For a week or two, Thor's condition seemed to have stabilised. He was feeling the cold still, but he learned how to manage. Sometimes he even went down to the sparring ring to train, though he seemed determined to choose times when he would be alone, coming back inside sniffling and with his nose turned a strange shade of violet.

But there was one morning that he seemed different. Shifty. Not welcoming Loki with open arms as he usually did.

Maybe he was finally putting his foot down to deny this burgeoning closeness between them.

"Are you feeling worse?" Loki asked, like he didn't suspect.

"Um..." Thor said, which really didn't fill him with hope. "Sort of."

He looked... scared. Not angry. Maybe it wasn't about them. What could it be? What had changed?

"Do you want anything? Soothing draught?"

"It's not... It doesn't hurt exactly."

He was blushing furiously. Utterly mortified, it seemed. Loki sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair, trying to be gentle.

"You can tell me."

Thor let out a shuddering sigh, rubbing his eyes.

"I... I was _enjoying_ myself last night, if you understand, and I... I felt something."

"I should hope so, else I fear you've been doing it wrong."

A joke had been the wrong idea. That much was clear from Thor's baleful gaze and slight pout. He was being serious.

"Let me have a look," Loki suggested.

"What? No!"

"Oh, come on. You can't possibly get a good angle. And it's not like you'll have anything I don't."

"I'm... I'm not so sure about that. I think I felt... some kind of growth."

Oh... Eurgh.

It wasn't exactly how he'd fantasised about seeing Thor bared - generally there was more kissing and moaning involved - but this was his best friend and he needed help. He could do this.

Thor stared at the ceiling, like he could remove himself from this reality by force of will, as Loki pushed the blankets upwards, feeling like he would never get to the end of these layers and wondering if that was necessarily a bad thing depending on what he was about to find.

Eventually he reached breeches and carefully eased them down, small clothes too, Thor closing his eyes as he parted his legs as best he could with his knees restricted as they were.

Loki surveyed what lay before him and tried to be detached and neutral while all his brain could focus on was Thor's cock. It looked normal, as far as Loki could judge, roughly the same length as his own, maybe just a little thicker. Slightly. Not much in it really.

It was difficult to block out the fact that he'd imagined having this particular appendage in his mouth and cunt most nights of late and now here it was before him, definitely not in that kind of situation. Alas.

Still, it seemed normal, presumably not the issue, so he carefully moved it out of the way, only feeling the heft of it as he did so out of necessity.

And now he could see what Thor meant. He had a softness just beneath the base of his cock, again perfectly normal, concealing his cunt - which Loki was only barely resisting trying to glimpse - but there was something else there too, something just a little harder. Like two small globes beneath his skin. It was strange, but it didn't look sore or infected or anything.

Experimentally, he prodded one and Thor let out the strangest sound. Something between a whimper and a cry and Loki looked up in fear that even that had been too much.

"It's... It's sensitive," Thor said defensively.

"You mean it hurts?"

He'd never seen Thor flush so dark before.

"No. Not exactly."

This evasiveness was not helping Loki understand. Still, something was definitely not normal here, which meant a difficult discussion was necessary.

"You have to see a healer," he said, pulling the blankets back down as Thor shuffled back into his clothes.

"No, I don't. It doesn't hurt or anything. It's nothing. It'll probably go away on its own."

Wretched, stubborn...

"And what if it doesn't? What if it gets worse?"

Thor mumbled grumpily.

"I'm not letting you die of... whatever that is just because you're embarrassed," Loki said. "You're right, it's probably nothing but it might be something and we are not qualified to say which it is."

Poor Thor. His body so often gave him away. And maybe Loki wouldn't normally have noticed the way he pulled his arm over his chest, but suddenly that had rather a lot of meaning...

"Has the mark on your wrist gone away?"

Thor looked at him like he'd magically devined where his thoughts had run. So unaware of his own tells.

"Well, has it? Can I see it?"

Not even a reply. Thor just took off the coat he'd worn to bed and rolled up the shirt sleeve beneath.

Loki couldn't hold back his gasp. It had not gone away. It had got much, much worse. The rough mark on his wrist was now a series of strange, pale blotches running almost all the way up his arm.

And that was that. No more discussion.

"I'm getting you a healer whether you like it or not," Loki said.

"But what if it's... something bad?"

Heading for the door, Loki shrugged, exasperated.

"Then it won't get better with you ignoring it. It won't stop being bad just because you don't know about it. That's not how this works."

He looked at his dear old friend's face, the fear and apprehension on it. He needed reassurance.

"It will be fine," Loki insisted. "It's probably nothing."

He wished he believed that as he headed for the infirmary.


	7. Chapter 7

In some ways, it was lucky they were dealing with this in the morning, before Thor had been able to heat the room to oven temperatures. It would be bad enough without anyone fainting.

He'd got out of bed by the time Loki returned with a professional, sitting on his couch with arms folded, the very picture of misery. He did not want this, but he was clearly very sick, even if he'd convinced himself be wasn't.

The healer swept into Thor's room with cheery efficiency and the traditional sleeveless shirt of their profession. It was impressive, especially since he was forced to duck in order to enter. Loki had tried to explain the nature of the complaints, but apparently skin discolouration and unusual swelling could be any number of things.

"So, you're worried about down below, are you? Lie back and let's have a look."

"Should I leave?" Loki asked.

Thor shook his head. He seemed resigned.

"You'd only make me tell you afterwards," he said. "This will save time."

Trying to spare his dignity, Loki sat on the floor beside his head and tried not to worry at the look that came over the healer's face.

"Huh," he said, which was not the most reassuring of sounds to come from a healthcare professional.

His fingers seemed enormous though his touch was gentle. More or less. Thor let out a grunt, blinking hard. Not knowing what else to do, Loki reached for his hand, trying for a reassuring squeeze.

"Have you had a recent injury?" the healer asked. "An abdominal impact, perhaps?"

"No."

A frown, more touching, a real look of confusion.

"And have you had... surgery? After childbirth perhaps?"

Thor turned the colour of a winter storm, pale but somehow deep, almost ashen.

"No," he said, voice trembling. "No, I... I haven't even had sex, let alone a child."

"Hm. Your vaginal opening is unusually small, even for one of your stature. And there's something almost like... scar tissue. If I were not a doctor, I'd almost think it was closing up."

Thor's eyes were like suns, huge and red and blazing, an expression of utter horror.

"Closing up?" he said shakily. "Can they... do that?"

"I've certainly never seen it happen spontaneously. Sometimes if there is an injury, the healing can complicate matters. The strange growth you described meanwhile is in fact your gonads. It seems you've had an extremely unusual internal prolaspe. Not unheard of, but I'd expect you to have recently had a severe fall at least."

It seemed Thor was wracking his brains to try to think of the last time he'd been hurt. It must have been months ago. Long before he first started feeling the cold so badly and having these other strange symptoms.

"Show him your arm," Loki urged. "It may be unrelated."

To his credit, Thor didn't grumble. He simply slipped off his shirt, goosebumps erupting across his flesh.

Had it got worse since Loki had looked at it only minutes ago? Or was it his imagination?

The healer took Thor's arm, brows deeply furrowed, pressing on the pale areas, asking if they hurt. It didn't seem so.

"There are conditions which cause pigmentation changes," he said uncertainly. "Generally harmless with only cosmetic effects. But I have never seen a case like this before, so concentrated on one limb."

As he turned Thor's flesh, Loki saw the full extent of it. The inside of Thor's wrist was entirely white, his veins clearly visible even. If he had a disease, surely it would cover his whole body randomly. But this... This seemed to be coming from one spot and spreading.

"Am I going to die?" Thor asked, very matter of fact, Loki reflexively squeezing his hand in alarm.

"Oh, I shouldn't think so," the healer said, but not entirely convincingly. "But I do think we should take you down to the soul forge. For tests. To be sure."

Thor agreed immediately. He really was worried.

And of course the machine was much, much too big for him. The operator looked at him in surprise before suggesting they perhaps could use the children's version. Indignity was only ever a few skips away at this size.

To their mutual distress, Loki could only watch as particles swirled around and through Thor's body. Touching him would make the tests unreliable. Loki thought about sick children having to lie there, denied even the comfort of their parent's hands, and tried to radiate calm.

It got distinctly more difficult when more healers were brought, when their discussion dropped to urgent whispers, when their eyes kept moving from Thor to the images to Loki and back again.

"What is it?" he heard Thor ask. "What's wrong with me?"

"I'm sorry," the original healer said, all his reassuring certainty fallen away to leave only heavy sincerity. "We don't know. None of us have ever seen this before."

They used a lot of words. Surgical intervention. Organ displacement. Infertility. A parade of things that sounded simply awful.

It would almost have been better not to ask, Loki felt.

And then there was a throat cleared behind him, an "Excuse me, Prince Loki", a little half-bow.

"Your father requests your presence," a servant said.

Loki looked at Thor, at how alone he looked, his heart aching. But Thor looked back and nodded. He wanted no fuss.

The day passed in something of a blur, Loki wondering whether to inform Laufey himself or to let Thor do it or the professionals or what. It was lucky he wasn't expected to preside over anything. He was much, much too distracted to try to deal with legal matters.

He wolfed down dinner, mumbling about taking some up to Thor, hoping he'd be in his room and that some twist of fate would have the healers suddenly realising they were wrong and that there was nothing wrong with him really.

They had released him, but he didn't seem like he'd had good news. He'd gone to bed. Loki considered sneaking out, letting him sleep, but it became apparent that he was wide awake already as he rolled over, sighing.

"I brought you some food," Loki said, his voice sounding much, much too loud. "Are you hungry?"

A pause. And then a grudging yes.

"Thank you," Thor said, sitting up.

He pulled the blanket aside, inviting Loki to get in beside him.

The silence stretched out horribly, but Loki didn't know how to break it.


	8. Chapter 8

How did you ask what was wrong? Was it even appropriate to do so? Should he just wait for Thor to give him the information? Did he even want to talk about it?

Thor ate almost mechanically with none of his usual enjoyment. Just filling himself. Not finding any pleasure in it. Like a ghost version of himself.

Loki felt like he was going to throw up his own food. The tension was all too much.

In time, the plate was empty and Thor laid it on the floor, shuffling back under the covers. Did he want comfort? Did he want touching or had he been prodded enough for one day?

"I'm a freak," Thor murmured.

The scoff was out before Loki could stop himself.

"I'm sure that's not the term they used."

"No. But it's an accurate one."

He slipped his arm under Loki's neck, which seemed like invitation enough to cuddle in, to stroke his hair and the other arm, the marked one. It felt important somehow to show he wasn't scared of it.

"They think I might be monosex," Thor said. "It's a lot more common than you'd think. They gave me statistics on it, how many people each year. I wasn't really listening by that point. But you're normally born like that. It doesn't just suddenly happen one day. They can't explain it. But... Well, I can never bear children. It's strange, I never knew if I actually wanted to and now the choice is just gone. And I feel like I miss the choice."

Loki hesitated before asking the obvious question.

"Why can't you?"

"My womb is... shriveled. Closed up. They couldn't even find it at first. It's like my body is trying to absorb it, they said. And my cunt is closing, like it's a wound that's healing, and they don't know why or how long I have to..."

He sighed heavily, seeming so exhausted.

"How long to what?" Loki asked.

Thor rolled over, facing him properly.

"I might never be able to have sex... you know, like that," he said. "They talked about stretches and dilators, but already the gland that eases the way is starting to shrink."

He sighed again, something of a half-chuckle slipping out.

"Sorry," he whispered. "You don't need to hear all the gross details."

Could he really think that? How ridiculous. Loki leant forward, gently kissing him on the forehead.

"Of course I do," he whispered. "I love you."

There was a faint beat, a pause where the universe seemed to take a breath.

"Love you too."

And Loki felt a strange lurch somewhere in his stomach.

He'd... He'd meant as a friend, right? They both had? Loki wasn't too sure suddenly. He'd thought that's what he meant but maybe...

They were gazing at each other, quiet, each trying to judge what the other was trying to say. Did they want the same thing? Or did Thor mean it as just a friend with maybe an underlying physical attraction rather than a different kind of feeling?

He needed to break this tension somehow. But how? Were you supposed to laugh? Were you supposed to say something?

Loki was good at words. Being unable to think of the right ones was strange. Alien. Alienating.

"I'm not going to die of it," Thor said, shrugging, banishing the silence. "If you were worried. It's just certain things I took for granted are not going to be there. I should be grateful, if I'm honest. It could be a lot worse."

"And is there nothing they can do? No treatment to stop it?"

"I think I'd have to choose. Cock or cunt. And, well... I wouldn't want to pick in the first place and my body seems to have decided, so... That's that. It's just the surprise, that's all. I'll be fine."

He was already trying to push himself to get over it. That's how Thor was. He always tried to appear less vulnerable than he was. It was like he tried to hide any feeling that might inconvenience others, or something.

Loki cupped his cheek, trying to be gentle.

"It's alright to be upset," he said softly. "I would be."

Thor smiled, clearly forced.

"I expect I will be from time to time. But, well... Can't be helped. No point in moping about it too much."

"Can I do anything?"

He genuinely seemed to think about it. And then he looked nervous. Very nervous.

"I, er..."

"Yes?"

"I might not get a chance again to... And you're the only person I would trust enough and that physically... But it's alright if you don't want to. Don't feel like you have to, it's up to you..."

A different day, Loki might have teased. Might have made Thor spit it out more clearly. But this had been a difficult time and so instead he simply leant forward to still Thor's babbling tongue with his own.


	9. Chapter 9

Kissing properly was somewhat more difficult than Loki had expected. There was a lot to think about. Like noses and whose bottom lip was going where. But it was nice. He definitely liked it. There was a frisson to it, a sense of excitement.

It was even better when Thor hauled him on top, running his hands down his back.

He was so warm... Like being touched by trick flames, not hot enough to burn, but enough to feel the effects.

Between Thor's legs, he found himself rolling his hips, semi-consciously, finding friction but not nearly enough, and was this too soon? What were you supposed to do?

"Are you sure about this?" he asked urgently.

Thor looked at him and laughed slightly.

"No," he said. "To be honest, I'm... scared a little. But I trust you. And I want it. I want to feel it."

This was a big responsibility. Their first time, maybe Thor's only time like this, and he had no idea really what he was doing.

Well, that was not strictly true. He was not a child. He'd had all the necessary education, though it tended to focus rather on the risks and consequences of sex than the recreational practicalities...

He'd explored his own body though. How difficult could it be, really?

"Tell me if I do something wrong," Loki said. "Or particularly right."

Thor nodded, his lips pressed together. How strange to see him like this. He had faced down opponents twice his breadth, but here he was, nervous.

Loki tried to pretend he knew what he was doing. Maybe faux confidence would help. He carefully undid the ties on Thor's breeches, helped him remove them. His cock was thickening, which was a good sign, but he clearly needed more...

That sensitivity he'd mentioned... Perhaps they could exploit that.

Thor's eyes fell shut, his breathing speeding up as Loki rubbed his flesh experimentally.

"Be gentle," he bit out. "It's nice but it's... It's intense."

Right. Gentle circles with just the tips of his fingers, occasionally sliding up to the base of his cock, almost teasing really.

He grew braver, stroking Thor's shaft a few times, feeling his own growing distinctly interested, trying to ignore it while Thor's chest heaved. And then he slipped his hand lower.

"Can I...?"

"Yes."

The heat was the first thing he noticed. Comparatively, his skin must feel so cold, exploring, feeling the slight opening there.

He could feel what they meant. The flesh here was strange, smooth. But slick too, and if he angled right he could carefully slide one finger inside...

Thor let out a sigh, like he'd been holding his breath.

"Is this alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine."

'Fine' was not 'good', but they were only just getting started. Loki tried moving, which also seemed 'fine' and then felt brave enough to rub upwards...

"Mmm... That's nice. That's good."

"Not too cold?"

"It's... chilled, but in a good way."

"You're very warm inside."

Loki felt himself blush. This was meant to be sex, not another medical examination! Ugh...

"Can I try another?"

Thor nodded, rather eagerly if Loki was any judge. That was positive.

Two fingers was a little more difficult. Everything was wet enough, but the muscles were so tight. Tense. Needing taken care of.

It was difficult to get up Thor's body to kiss him and still reach down far enough, but Loki could just about manage it. And Thor kissed like he never wanted to do anything else ever again, striving and desperate.

And something... gave. Some extra bit of tension slipping away and Thor was pawing at his clothes, trying to take them off, muttering about wanting, about being ready...

"Are you... You know. Aroused?" he asked.

What a ridiculous question. Loki had been very carefully ignoring his body, concentrating on making sure Thor was fully prepared and comfortable, determined not to rush.

He swung his way back between Thor's legs, reaching down, dizzy with it, almost overwhelmed already by just the closeness, the realisation that there was no going back from this.

He looked at Thor's face, a question in his eyes, a nod in return, a smile.

And so he started to push.

A little frown, a slight wince, but then Thor urged him on, using his thighs to pull him closer, screwing his eyes shut until they were completely together, as close as possible.

"Just... A moment," he gasped. "Let me get used to it."

It was difficult to remain still when his body was screaming at him to move, his lungs unable to get enough air, Thor's body clenching around him.

It felt right somehow. Like they were destined to end up here from the moment Laufey decided to find his son a suitable companion.

He ran his fingers through Thor's hair, finding shades of gold in there that he'd never noticed before, brighter and more vibrant, kissing his face softly until he felt a nod and he could...

To say he had a rhythm would be almost entirely inaccurate. But he had motion and he could follow Thor's breathing, the pair of them learning to move at the same time, getting a little faster.

Loki had always expected moaning. Maybe that would come later. When they were less amazed that this was happening at all.

Still, Thor smiled up at him, lips parted around gasps, face full of pleasure. And he was doing that. Or they were doing it together.

Showing astonishing presence of mind, Loki reached between them, finding Thor's cock and beginning to stroke with purpose, trying to make Thor's first time good.

The reaction was instant. Thor arched towards him, gasping and crying out.

It was just unfortunate that the pleasant surprise of getting an actual moan was almost immediately spoiled by a loud knocking at the door.


	10. Chapter 10

"Duke Thor? King Laufey requests your presence in his private chambers immediately."

They'd stopped moving, frozen in horror, Thor swallowing hard before responding.

"Be... Be there in a moment."

Footsteps heading off. Loki felt like he could breathe again. It was one thing to be in Thor's rooms at night, but quite another to be in his bed...

Or _in him_ , as it were...

"Should we...?" he began.

"I think I'll burst if we don't," Thor said.

He'd been suggesting they stop, even as his body burned with want, a giggle slipping out as he leant forward to capture Thor's lips again.

It was very naughty to keep Father waiting, but that just made things better. Clandestine. Exciting.

Of course, Loki was a few seconds late to realise that he probably should pull out before climax, but, well...

But Thor was crying out, spilling all over his hand and his own skin, which suggested he had also not had been thinking of where they were about to go.

Orgasm snuck up on them, a sudden rush. Which was good since they were already late, but not the lengthy and skilful ending he might have imagined in private moments.

Thor pulled him down, kissing him once more before sighing and heading for his private washroom.

Loki got dressed, feeling a little sweaty. There didn't seem to be much else he could do. What did Father want at this time of night? It was very unusual. At least, he assumed it was. Thor had never mentioned being summoned after dark before.

And therefore, Loki had no intention of letting him go on his own. It could be important.

Thor emerged, looking a little uncomfortable, but smiling nonetheless.

"I think I'll be sticky for days," he said maybe a little bashfully. "But I like that. Proves that I didn't dream this."

There was time for one last kiss or two or three as Thor pulled on layer after layer and they made their way out through the palace.

Loki didn't often venture into his Father's rooms nowadays. They were a place of long ago, when he was young enough to wander through sleepily in the mornings or after a nightmare for cuddles.

As he grew older, he had begun to understand that the reason everything was enormous to him was not only because he was a child, but because he was different. He would never grow into any of this furniture. He would always be a tiny figure upon the enormous throne. People would always stare.

So he turned that staring to his advantage. Let them stare. He'd give them a real reason to.

Laufey was at his desk, looking thoroughly exhausted. His jaw was set, his eyes grim. Loki knew that look. A decision had been made and nothing could change it.

"This does not concern you, Loki," he said. "Go back to your rooms."

Loki looked at Thor, uncertain.

"I shall not tell you again!"

It had been a long time since he'd been shouted at like that. It was a shock more than anything.

"What's happened?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Laufey waved a hand irritably.

"Escort Prince Loki to bed. And make sure he stays there."

He wanted to fight. He did. He yelled something about not fair and not going and then two guards seized him, one under each arm, and unceremoniously lifted him off the ground.

No amount of kicking or twisting made a difference, craning his neck over his shoulder to see Thor watching him go, eyes wide, frightened.

He kicked and screamed all the way, but ended up deposited in his chambers. The lock clicked behind him, followed by a glow of strong magic. He wasn't getting out until his father said so.

Nothing to do but wait. And worry.

It was obvious what had happened. Someone had somehow realised that they were... messing around. That their friendship had become something else. Or someone suspected at least. And now Thor was there, with the clear evidence upon his skin, and he was going to be punished for something that was only half his fault...

Loki barely slept. He couldn't. He felt sick. He paced and sat and maybe cried a little even though it didn't help.

And eventually, he heard a click. The door unlocking.

He shoved the servant bringing him breakfast out of the way, sprinting down to Thor's rooms and banging on the door before trying to open it.

It hurt enough to find it locked to him.

It hurt even worse to hear Thor's voice telling him to go away.


	11. Chapter 11

"But... But it's me."

It sounded so weak and pathetic when he said it. Was that the best he could do to convince Thor to open the door and talk to him?

"I don't want you to see me."

What? What a strange thing to say. What did that mean? What had happened to him? What had Father done that he felt he had to hide?

"Please, Thor."

Silence. And then faint sounds of movement. And then the door unlocking and Thor's voice, very close.

"Count to five and then you can come in."

It seemed like an endless wait, but he had to respect this strange mood that had come over his old friend. Something had clearly happened last night. Something bad.

The room was sweltering when he crept inside, but mainly it was dark. Thor had blocked his windows, put a screen in front of his fire. And, if Loki wasn't mistaken, he was hiding under a blanket.

"Close the door."

Complete darkness. Loki was tempted to summon a witch light, but clearly there was some kind of reasoning going on here, even it it made no sense to him.

He stepped forward carefully, feeling his way to the couch and then to the bed.

He could feel Thor, a warm mass beneath the sheets. Hiding from him.

"What's happened?" he asked helplessly. "Just tell me what's going on."

"I'm going away. I'm sorry. But it's for the best."

A horrible ache settled somewhere around Loki's ribs, a dull, physical pain. Like he was being squeezed, compressed.

"This is all my fault," he said. "You were right. I should have listened. I pressured you..."

"What?"

Loki recoiled slightly at his tone. So harsh.

"Well... Well, Father is sending you away because we're... Because we slept together, isn't he?"

The softest exhalation. Like he was tired. Maybe he hadn't managed to find much rest last night either.

"No, Loki, it's nothing to do with that. Not entirely anyway."

"Then what is it?!"

Thor sighed again. Like all the troubles of the world were on his chest, pushing the air out of him.

"You'll understand very soon," he said softly. "I promise. But don't ask me to tell you. I couldn't bear it."

This was so unlike him. Even in his dark moods, he didn't hide things. He was more or less open for anyone who cared to ask.

Or he was very, very good at hiding his feelings usually.

Loki sniffed, unsure what to say, what to do to make him change his mind.

Thor sat up, pulling him into an embrace.

"Don't worry," he said. "You'll get over it."

"I won't. Don't say that. We were only just beginning... There's so much else I wanted to do..."

"There was no future in it."

"So what? We were together."

"And now we won't be. At least we had a little time. Think about what we had, not what we didn't."

He was trying to soften the blow, rubbing Loki's back, holding him close. Thinking of his feelings rather than his own.

"Where are you going?" Loki asked urgently. "When?"

"Tonight."

It was too soon! And so abrupt.

"Well, you can't," Loki insisted. "You're sick. You can't possibly go anywhere."

A chuckle. The saddest and most awful sound, tearing his heart.

"I'm not sick. You'll understand tonight, I swear it. And we might see each other again, one day."

He was talking as though he was going to die. Why wasn't he fighting this? Why was he just letting this happen?

"You can't go. I won't let you. You can't hide here in the dark and talk of leaving and not explain yourself."

"I remain in this palace with your father's permission and he has withdrawn it. And for good reason. Don't blame him for it."

Loki wanted to scream at him. Who was this strange, placid creature? Where was the Thor he knew, who would take on anyone who wished to challenge him, who laughed in the face of insurmountable odds?

"I'm going to talk to Father, then," he said, scooting off the bed. "He can't just send you away on a whim."

"It's not..."

He didn't find out what further excuses Thor would have made. He was livid, furious. He understood completely. Father had realised that he'd never have a chance of marrying Loki off while he had an erstwhile and loving defender by his side, and so he was sending Thor away and there had been a fight, a physical fight, and now Thor was hiding in the dark to disguise his bruises and...

Bursting into the Great Hall, dressed for bed, probably looking thoroughly awful with his hair mussed and stains from tears on his face, Loki strode towards his Father's throne. It was only a sense of propriety and, more importantly, a sense of drama that made him kneel before it.

"I beg a private interview," he said, knowing he sounded hoarse, overly emotional.

There was a long pause.

"Loki, I am busy. Go and wait in my bureau."

A dismissal for now, but at least a promise of a later discussion. And a chance to have a brief doze; even anger and frustration couldn't keep a body going indefinitely.

The door closing woke him, curled in the visitor's chair, uncomfortable but good enough.

"Have you seen Thor this morning?" Laufey asked, his voice low and knowing.

"No, actually," Loki snapped. "He would not let me see his face. Whatever scars you left upon him..."

"I did nothing of the sort."

Laufey couldn't even look at him, it seemed. He stood at the window, gazing outwards.

"I gather you had a romantic interlude," he said.

Blood rushed to Loki's face, his mouth falling open.

"That's none of your business!"

"You are heir to my throne. It is entirely my business."

"Even if we did, it's not fair to banish Thor for it."

A long silence. Outside, glaciers groaned in motion, the harsh cries of scavenging birds looking for prey, the wind howling.

"I brought Thor here to be a brother to you. I thought if you grew up together, there would be no risk of these feelings developing. But I see now that I left it too late. Maybe if you had been younger children... But no matter. The issue is out of my hands now. We will never speak of this... mistake. No one shall ever know."

"Where are you sending him?"

Laufey turned at last, eyes blazing.

"I am not sending him anywhere. His family are coming to fetch him."

His family? What family? Thor didn't have a family.

Oh... Laufey was palming him off on some distant noble. Sending him away. Because of his illness perhaps? Was he ashamed that his ward was sick?

But Thor had said he wasn't sick...

"Return to your rooms, Loki. Sleep. Take a bath. We will have guests tonight and I know how much store you put in being seen at your best."

A wave of his hand. Was that it? That's all he had to say?

"What guests?" Loki croaked, trying to stay calm.

"Thor's family. And then maybe you'll understand."

Nothing seemed understandable.

In fact it felt like nothing would ever make sense again.


	12. Chapter 12

Everything was so frustrating!

Father was quite often like that, but Thor... Loki was really surprised by that. If he was going to have some great revelation in the evening then why hide from him? Why make him wait? Wasn't it obvious that this was torture?

Back in his own space, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He did look awful. Visibly exhausted, swollen almost around the eyes.

To think he'd been so happy so recently. He'd been thinking of the future, of having a secret relationship in plain sight, learning about his body with the help of his dearest friend.

And now Thor was to be ripped from him, seemingly permanently, and he didn't even seem to care...

Well, maybe he'd show Thor just what he'd be missing.

He slept a while and then spent a long time in the bath, letting the cool water soothe any puffiness, staining his nails dark, wrapping his hair with sweet-smelling oils before washing it again, which might irritate his scalp but he'd have tresses that shone and smelled divine.

If he'd had more time, he'd have had a new outfit made. Alas, he'd have to reuse something. Still, accessories could transform an ensemble.

Hair jewels, pendants, rings... Too much? No such thing.

By the time he was done, you wouldn't realise he was sleep deprived. Yes, perhaps his eyes were a little staring, a little manic, but he glittered and gleamed, each of his best features on display.

Oh, yes. No one could possibly miss him.

His stomach was rumbling a lot by the time dinner would be served, complaining at his lack of nourishment so far, but no matter. He could feast to his heart's content while Thor's so-called family watched on.

Bitterness had seized him, recklessness, not caring remotely for how he might be perceived. They were taking Thor from him; they could see him at his best and worst at the same time.

He strode into the feast hall with his head held high, forgoing any announcement. The hush that fell over the room was gratification enough, the sudden quiet and then the rush of sound as everyone whispered about him.

Some admiring glances, some disgusted. He didn't care. All attention was good attention, even his father's gaze which spoke of utter disappointment as he took his usual seat by his side.

The table hid a lot of his bared skin, but you couldn't have everything.

"Where are they, then?" he asked, getting in first before he could be told off. "These people you claim are Thor's family?"

"They will be here shortly."

Loki noted the other chairs at this high table. Raised ones, like his own. A whole family of runts? Was Thor being sent to some sort of orphanage for the small?

"At least try to be polite, Loki. I'd rather avoid another headache this week. You're lucky I'm letting you say goodbye at all."

Loki scowled and glared at the door at the opposite end of the room, daring it to open and reveal these impostors.

The bright flashing lights outside were the first hint he got that he had misjudged the situation somewhat.

The second was when the doors crashed open and Odin of Asgard entered, looking old and tired and frail, so different from how he looked in the history books.

Loki tensed immediately while shocked voices erupted all around. Their old enemy, here? Now? What was happening?

Laufey stood, arms wide, clearly demonstrating that he had no weapons. As if he couldn't summon a blade of ice on a whim.

"Welcome, Lord of Asgard," he said, stilted but polite. "Please, sit and dine with us."

"I'm not staying," Odin grunted. "You know what I'm here for."

Something in Loki's brain was holding back, trying to protect himself from the realisation.

And then a door opened behind him and the crowd's shocked murmurs gave way to outraged uproar.

Loki turned.

"I'm sorry," Thor said. "I didn't know."

It sounded like Thor at least, but it didn't look like him.

The pale pink flesh and golden hair were one thing to behold, but Loki couldn't tear his gaze from those strange blue eyes. They were the colour his skin used to be...

Loki felt sick. Empty stomach or not, he was going to...

He rushed past Thor and down the corridor, already tasting bile in his throat.


	13. Chapter 13

At least he made it to the servants' washroom...

Muscles heaved and his throat contracted, but there was nothing to come up but acid, leaving Loki panting and resting his head against the cool of a wall.

It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake. Thor, the son of Odin? That was ridiculous. That couldn't be true.

But then he thought of the strange illness that had been coming over his old friend. The dislike of the cold, the pale skin, the way his body had begun to change to be so different. Because he wasn't Jotun at all.

Trembling, tears in his eyes, Loki rinsed his mouth, catching sight of his reflection in the basin. So much for being stunning. The blood had drained from his face, making him look positively ill.

Not as ill as Thor looked upon his return to the hall, though. His face was blotched with pink, his nostrils flared and eyes darting as Loki re-entered, trying to seem steadier than he was.

Laufey noted his arrival, nodding and addressing the grumbling people as much as Odin.

"For many years, I have treated your son, Thor of Asgard, as my own, raising him alongside my heir. As a sign of our long peace, please eat with us to celebrate his return home."

Odin didn't respond, just beckoned to Thor, summoning him across the floor, every footstep echoing. He seized his chin, turning it left and right before a smile broke over his face.

"My boy..."

A grunt as Thor found himself embraced, arms hanging limply at his side.

He might have been a tailor's model, standing stiffly when Odin stepped back. Despite himself, Loki could see similarities between them. The jawline, the cheekbones...

He had so many questions. He didn't even know where to start.

Odin was smiling still, maybe with slight tears in his eyes, moving forward towards the high table. He meant to eat with them after all. Loki wasn't sure whether he was pleased or not. It was longer time to spend with Thor but in many ways this was not Thor. This was not his old friend. This was a stranger.

He wished he didn't feel that way, but he did.

"Your mother didn't dare believe it was true," Odin was saying softly. "She's going to burst with happiness."

"I... I have a mother," Thor said, almost a question.

Loki didn't know who his other parent was. Laufey that birthed him. That was what was important for them. Monogamy wasn't unheard of, but it wasn't mandatory either.

"Mother, brother and sister."

It was strange to see Thor react to that. The family he'd never had before. But he didn't know them. He didn't love them.

That was what Loki wanted to scream, deep down. _You don't love them. You love me._

He ate. Everything was awkward and awful, and he wanted to eat those feelings away. Impossible. He'd explode long before he managed that.

Feeling Thor's eyes on him, those strange, pale blue eyes, it made him itch almost. It was like he was trying to communicate but suddenly they spoke completely different languages.

All he could think of was Thor's words. "I didn't know." So he'd found out only last night and he'd hidden his new skin, he'd hidden in the dark.

It hurt to realise that it was because Thor had been afraid of his reaction. Had he been right to fear it? It would have been a shock, that was true enough...

Looking down at his plate, his vibrant blue bare chest seemed mocking and unfair almost. Like he was showing Thor what he no longer was. He grabbed a servant's arm and asked for a cape, saying something about being a little cold, his voice scratchy and strange.

He hadn't said anything to Thor yet. What was he supposed to say? Congratulations? Goodbye? Nothing seemed right.

Thor was not eating, he noticed. He was just pushing his food around the plate.

"They've kept you well fed, I see," Odin said. "Strong by the looks of it. Treated you well."

Statements or questions? What exactly was he insinuating? Thor had lived almost as a prince, like Laufey's own. Surely he wasn't going to let this insult go by unchallenged.

"I've been very happy here," Thor said, not that his flat tone was very convincing. "I have wanted for nothing."

Loki's cape arrived, a cover, a shield.

Thor watched him hide and then looked away.

The meal passed, slowly, achingly slowly. Odin asked more or less polite questions. Loki didn't talk at all.

And then there was a big, public show of Odin thanking Laufey and Jotunheim as a whole for taking in his long lost son and taking care of him and for their hospitality and they...

They were leaving.

Loki wasn't sure what he wanted to do. His body was numb, his thoughts slow, just watching as Thor was walked away from him, looking back over his shoulder as though for one more glance...

And then gone. Taken out of the hall and a few minutes later, the bright flash of the Asgardians' transportation took him to his homeland.

A homeland he'd never been to before.

How had everything changed so quickly?

Laufey laid a hand on his shoulder, gentle but firm.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This was not how I imagined things would turn out."

Loki took a while to force his brain, tongue, lungs and lips to all work together.

"I'd like you to explain it all to me," he said. "If it isn't too much trouble."

For the second time in only a few hours, he found himself steered towards Laufey's bureau, hoping for a proper explanation.


	14. Chapter 14

"You remember how the war with Asgard ended?"

Not personally. He'd only been a baby. Loki thought back to a thousand history lessons. They had once had a fairly cordial relationship with the so-called realm eternal. But resources and territory, future rights to trade with other realms... There had been disagreements. And, because leaders like Father and Odin always resorted to weapons, there had been war. Tit for tat for centuries.

"You defeated Frigga and Hela of Asgard and faced Odin upon the battlefield and took his eye before his surrender. And then you magnanimously agreed to let him retreat and rebuild."

"More or less. But, well... I took it upon myself to teach him a personal lesson too."

Loki frowned. Surely not...

"You stole his son?"

Laufey seemed shocked at even the accusation. Perhaps he wouldn't put it quite like that.

"His palace irritated me. I wanted to destroy it. Damage it, certainly. All that gold and all that water... Covering up the cracks in his rule with shiny baubles and foil. So I froze it, knowing the thaw would cause ruptures in his fountains and flood the whole complex. A little mischief on my part, perhaps. You had to get that streak from somewhere."

Loki didn't understand. What had any of this to do with Thor?

"Afterwards, I made my way inside, thinking to see my handiwork, perhaps take some little trinket as a prize. And instead I found a child, held in the arms of their watcher, their eyes closed behind ice. They had been evacuating and I had - accidentally, I assure you; I had no idea anyone was there - frozen the man solid, the baby too. He must have been last to leave and trusted with such precious cargo. I knew right away that this was no ordinary infant. His clothing bore the royal seal and his name in perfect embroidery."

"So you stole him. Kidnapped him."

A long sigh.

"An adult Asgardian could survive that fast freezing, straight from the Casket. There might be some after effects, but nothing too serious. A baby on the other hand... I was not so sure. And I had just had you. Even at that time, you were safe at home and I wondered what I hoped Odin would do should he find my child in similar circumstances? Vulnerable? Tiny? And so I rescued him."

It didn't sound much like a rescue to Loki.

"You rescued him from yourself," he said.

"If I had left him, he might have frozen to death. I had no idea there even was a child. They kept it very quiet. I took him, disguised him and entrusted his care to trustworthy people. And when the time was right, I brought him here and raised him as my own. I gave him a good life."

Excuses.

"Why not bring him into the palace from the beginning? You wanted us to be brothers. Why not introduce us when we were both too young to remember?"

"I didn't know if Thor would take after his father. I couldn't risk him believing himself to be a prince and challenging your rule. He had to know that was not a possibility. I should have done it earlier though. He grew into a nice enough young man, but I didn't want the pair of you developing... unwise attraction."

"Well, you did a wonderful job at avoiding that," Loki said icily.

He'd folded his arms, not sure whether he was more angry or sad.

"Why now?" he asked. "Why did his body start... changing?"

Laufey shook his head. Not certain.

"I believe the elves realised something was amiss with him. Perhaps their spies knew of a secret, lost Asgardian prince. Reverting a body to a former state is much easier than maintaining a false one. It was much easier for them to counter my magic than for me to hold it off. And, of course, I didn't suspect such a thing until it was far too late. More fool I. Apparently our links with them are not as good as I had hoped."

Loki couldn't get his head round this. It felt like a dream. A nightmare. A strange nonsense sprouted from his unconscious fears.

"When were you going to tell us?" he asked.

The look of slight discomfort answered that. A sad little laugh slipped out of his throat.

"I see. You weren't. Thor was just going to live out his days as a prisoner."

"Was he ever denied anything? Was he not free? I would have found a good match for him..."

"You took him from his parents! From his history, his people! You changed his body without a thought. He's been so scared. And now he has to go and live with strangers."

"And you lose your little follower."

He said it so harshly. Loki physically recoiled, like he'd been struck.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Please. Thor followed you around, always taking part in your schemes, even down to... indulging your carnal desires."

Loki's mouth fell open. What an accusation.

"We made that decision together," he stammered. "We're adults. It's allowed."

"Well... I'm sure Odin will have marital plans for Thor as well. It's for the best. And I'm sure you've had a tiring day."

Obvious dismissal. And so Loki was forced to retreat to his rooms and wonder.

Had Thor really only gone along with everything because he thought himself... lesser? Had he not wanted that development in their relationship?

And if he hadn't what did that mean?

Then again, it didn't really matter now. They were separated. For good. There was no point in being upset about it.

He told himself that, but couldn't quite hold back the tears as he lay alone in the dark.


	15. Part Two - Thor

Thor felt sick. He'd been feeling sick all day. And all night. Ever since Laufey had looked him in the eye and told him everything about him was false. Fake. Lies.

Even his body was not his own.

Waking up to find that it was not some awful nightmare, to see those awful, pink hands... He hadn't wanted to look. He'd shut out the light so he could pretend, to Loki, to himself.

The image of Loki's horror was going to haunt him. How his face had fallen, how he'd run away to compose himself. How he'd wrapped himself up to prevent Thor seeing him. It was obvious. He could not love him, not like this.

Thor had always known loving Loki was a stupid dream, but he couldn't help it.

Of all the ways he'd expected it to go wrong, this was not one of them. Maybe he ought to be glad that he hadn't seen it coming.

It was so strange to see Odin. He'd only ever seen him in history books before. And now here he was, smiling at him as they made their way towards an area clear of ice, clearly looking for similarities between them, strangely shy almost. Very different from the fearsome, dignified military leader he'd seen pictures of.

"When the elves told me of their suspicions, I hardly dared to hope," he was saying. "And then Laufey invited me to come, to fetch you... I'm hardly even angry, just knowing you're safe after all these years."

Thor didn't know what to say but he knew he had to say something.

"I'm a little overwhelmed," he managed.

"Oh, of course. Let's get you home."

Home. Where was home now?

He didn't really have time to dwell on it before a bright, rushing light erupted around them and he had the strange sensation of being _pulled_ upwards, like a puppet, jerked off his feet, wind rushing all around, horrible swirling colours and then a thud as he fell bodily onto a very solid floor.

It wasn't doing anything for his underlying nausea as he hauled himself to his feet.

A handsome man - and that was the first thing he noticed what with his dazed state - in a gold helmet knelt before him. The watcher, perhaps?

"Prince Thor, welcome home. I failed you once but swear upon my life that I will never allow that to happen again."

"Uh..." Thor said, deeply uncomfortable. "Uh, please stand? There's really no need..."

Gold eyes like nothing he'd never seen looked him up and down before the man bowed his head.

"Her Majesty the Queen awaits you in her morning room. I believe she's very... keen."

The Queen. His mother.

Thor practically trembled. He could remember the people who had taken care of him as a child, but they had very much thought of him as a duty. They fed him and clothed him, kept him safe and comfortable, but they didn't love him. They didn't treat him like their own children.

And sometimes he had dreamed of... a parent, someone who would care for him like that.

Laufey had always asked to be treated as a parent but, well, everyone knew it wasn't true. There was no point in pretending really.

But this was his mother. His real mother. And he was terrified of her suddenly, following along into the palace itself, every step giving him more to stare at. Gold and fountains and plants, so different to everything he knew.

What if she didn't bond with him? What if the trauma of loss was too much? Or worse, what if he wasn't what she expected?

And then there she was. His mother. Looking rather younger than he'd expected and so dark haired, unlike him in almost every way.

"Is this it, then?" she asked coldly. "The Jotuns' cast off?"

"Mind your tongue, Hela," Odin barked. "Let the boy meet his mother."

A sneer. And she stepped aside, letting them pass.

"Who was that?" Thor whispered, stunned that anyone would dare speak to Odin in such a way.

"Hela. My eldest."

He hadn't recognised her without the armour. Thor carefully didn't offer his thoughts, remaining quiet until he was taken to an elaborately carved door and shown in to meet the real Frigga.

He barely got a chance to look at her before, for the second time that day, he was pulled into an embrace.

This one was a little more pleasant. Smelled nicer. Floral.

And maybe, for a second or two, he found himself not feeling quite so horribly ill.


	16. Chapter 16

"I made tea," Frigga said. "I don't know if you like tea, but..."

"I've never had it. I shall find out."

"It can be bitter. Please don't think you have to drink it."

She poured for him, a greenish liquid. Hot and earthy... Oh, he had been craving just this kind of taste so recently. How had his body known?

Maybe it was part of whatever spell the elves had put on him. Sannheta had clearly cursed him with this knowledge of his mother's preferred drink.

"Tell me all about yourself," Frigga said, sitting opposite him, her braid if gold and silver hair seeming almost to glow in the firelight. "I want to hear all about you."

Odin excused himself, saying something about preparing rooms.

"I... I don't know where to start," Thor said, chuckling nervously.

"Where did you grow up? Were they kind to you?"

He started from the very beginning. Being raised on the outskirts of the capital city by a military veteran, who presumably had no idea of his true identity, being summoned to the palace in his youth, meeting Loki...

His heart throbbed. So recently, he had had Loki in his arms, begging him to stay, to explain what was happening when he barely understood it himself.

Just before that, he and Loki had shared something that he would never experience again. And not just because Loki would never want to touch him now, but because he no longer had the necessary anatomy.

It really was beginning to trouble him just how exactly his body had been able to... accommodate that...

"So Loki was like a brother to you?" Frigga asked, smiling kindly.

"Er... Not exactly. More like my... dearest friend. I will miss him a great deal."

Such understatement, all of it really. Loki was closer to him than any other being in all the universe. And he already felt the ache of separation so strongly.

Just as he was pondering it, a door burst open behind him, a young man rushing in. He was a little round, possibly from youth, mousey-haired and smiling widely.

"Is this him? Really?"

"Balder, leave him be," Frigga said. "You can meet properly in the morning."

Somehow the smile got even wider, positively gleeful.

"Alright. But is it really him?"

"Yes, Balder."

What a strange question. Was he really what? Well, the missing prince, presumably.

Thor's heart did a strange pound against his ribs. What if he wasn't? What if...?

No. Laufey had told him all about it. He'd found him in the Asgardian palace, alone and afraid and had taken him in.

Maybe he had a question of his own to ask once Balder was convinced to exit.

"Why did you leave me?" he asked softly, trying not to sound accusatory.

"Leave you?" Frigga said, surprised. "We didn't. Your father and I were on the battlefield and had entrusted your care to Heimdall, our most faithful friend. Laufey didn't know you existed and must have been surprised to find a child. Perhaps he feared you would one day raise an army against him and decided to remove the risk."

"Why didn't you look for me?"

She looked at him so sadly.

"We came back to find the palace flooded. In ruins. Heimdall close to death from being frozen solid. We feared... that you had been washed away by the waters perhaps. Or killed. And we were defeated. We had surrendered. We could not raise another army, send our people back into battle, cause more deaths. And so we hid our grief. We told almost no one that there was another child. The idea that you were alive and safe and well all these years..."

They had mourned him. And he felt some sadness for that, but all the same. He did not know them.

"I fear I'm still taking everything in," he said vaguely when he felt he'd been quiet too long.

"Don't rush," she said. "Take as long as you need. It must be a big adjustment."

She took him to his rooms. And what rooms! Much bigger than the ones he had at h... in Jotunheim.

And then she left him, bidding him goodnight, letting him finally let go of some tension.

He hadn't changed his clothes and was now very warm, but part of him didn't want to undress. He'd have to look at this strange new body he was inhabiting.

Then again, he supposed he'd have to deal with it eventually.

Sighing, he opened drawers at random until he found clothing that seemed light enough to sleep in. How had they got all this made for him so soon?

Right. Coat off. Shirt off. This wasn't so bad. His chest was much the same as it had always been, just a different colour.

It was... the rest of it that he was having difficulty dealing with.

Do it quick. Push off trousers and deal with it.

Well, his cock looked... normal. He supposed. But behind it, he had the ugliest growth in the world. And that was it. His cunt was completely gone. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand, he missed it. How it could feel.

On the other... He wasn't sure. It didn't necessarily seem as bad as he had expected. Maybe he'd gotten used to the idea of suffering a long, painful parting and to have the conclusion reached so quickly was almost a relief.

He'd never thought about having a different kind of body. Everyone in Jotunheim was the same. Or more or less the same. Why would he have questioned it? But now he knew the truth...

Probably just wishful thinking that perhaps he had always been like this on the inside. Probably just trying to cope.

And the 'external gonads' he suddenly had really were hideous. A strange bag almost, wrinkly and with hair. He'd never minded body hair before, but this was unpleasant. Perhaps the texture was different.

In a wardrobe - and what an enormous wardrobe -he found a long mirror and forced himself to look, to really take it all in.

It could have been worse, he told himself. Once he got used to the complexion, maybe things wouldn't seem so strange.

He was just glad he wouldn't have to look at his own eyes too much. He didn't recognise himself in them.

Or rather he did, but he didn't know why.

He went to bed and failed miserably at not thinking about Loki.


	17. Chapter 17

"Good morning!"

Thor groaned as a sudden bright light shone in his face, a shadow in front of it that eventually resolved itself to reveal Balder opening his curtains.

Right. The brother. His brother.

"Ready for breakfast? I am. And then I thought I could show you around, let you see the palace and everything."

It was difficult to deal with such enthusiasm so early.

"I'll, uh..." Thor said, rubbing his eyes. "I'll just freshen up and come join you."

"Great!"

An unfamiliar wash room. There was a sort of central pedestal with a bowl in it, but no way he could see of getting water. Poking around revealed a sconce in the wall and eventually he realised that if the bowl placed within, it operated some sort of counterweight and released a steady stream, already pleasantly warm.

He didn't much like the tall windows though. Was there no way to shutter them? Was everyone in this accursed realm an exhibitionist?

At least he felt clean as he put on more of the strange clothes they'd provided. Were his things going to be sent from Jotunheim? His books and trinkets?

They almost felt like they didn't belong to him. Nothing did. He hadn't been a real person before.

Balder still had a bright smile in place and Thor forced himself to offer one in return as they headed back towards where he had met Frigga the night before.

"Sleep alright?"

"Yes, thank you."

"And do you like your rooms?"

"I'm sure I will when I am accustomed to them."

At first he assumed the wide range of food laid out were to allow him to try everything the realm had to offer, but no one commented on it. Perhaps it was normal. Fruit preserves and loaves of bread and cheese... Very different to the smoked fish and sea vegetables he was used to.

There was more of that delicious green tea at least, Frigga and Odin sitting opposite them with another seat left empty.

"Is... Hela not joining us?" Thor asked.

"Oh, she doesn't like breakfast," Balder said immediately. "She'll come and get some fruit perhaps, but not much more than that."

Thor wasn't quite sure what to make of these new siblings. Balder seemed nice enough. Young and keen, excited to have a brother. Hela might take longer to warm up to him.

He remembered learning about her. How skilled in battle, how ruthless. He wasn't exactly looking forward to spending time with her, especially not alone.

An uncomfortable silence fell. No one knew what to say to him and he had no idea what to ask about.

"Grand plans for today, boys?" Odin asked eventually.

"Mm-hm," Balder said through a sip of tea. "We're going to explore the palace. All the important things. Hall, council, musicians, training yard."

Thor felt himself brighten a little. Training yard! Yes, going and working up a sweat, that would help him get rid of some of this unease.

Of course, that meant being alone with Balder and all his exuberance.

"So what's Jotunheim like?" he asked as they made their way to the highest tower where apparently there was a spectacular view over the city. "Is it horribly cold? Do they even have a summer? Is it dark all the time?"

So many questions...

"It was cold. There's a summer. In winter, it's very dark, but not so much otherwise."

A brief pause. Like Balder was trying to work out how to word his next query.

"Mother said you'd been disguised as a Jotun all these years."

"Mm."

"How? I mean, they're so... different to us."

Thor shrugged.

"It was magic," he said vaguely. "I don't know the details. Safe to say, until three days ago, I had no idea it had even happened at all."

He unconsciously looked at his hands, still so unfamiliar.

They'd reached the top and Balder opened the door with something of a flourish. And fair enough, really. Thor heard himself gasp.

Oh, Asgard was _stunning..._ Mountains and valleys, verdant and vibrant, the whole city shining with golden buildings and rivers. It was bright and alive and beautiful, fluffy clouds in the sky, people going about their lives. Yes, it bore the marks of the war, scars on the landscape here and there, but it was hardly the devastated land he'd always imagined.

"Not a bad place to call home, huh?" Balder asked.

"It's lovely," Thor said.

He tried to chase away the question of whether Loki would like it too.


	18. Chapter 18

The palace was lovely, but it was like a maze too. One column looked much like another. Thor felt like he'd never figure out where everything was.

Balder was very musical, it seemed. He had a pleasant voice too, and apparently enjoyed spending time with the court musicians, playing and composing.

He was so different from the stories of his father and sister. No thirst for blood here. He was... sweet. Nice.

Clumsy, though. Not in his movements, but sometimes in his speech. Thor recognised that awkwardness. He had suffered from it himself often and so knew there was no malice meant when he was asked peculiar questions about food and music and poetry in Jotunheim. Balder seemed to assume that they were completely without culture. Like Thor would have never seen instruments before or have only the vaguest idea what a song was.

Protest though he might however, they both knew the training yard was more his style.

He wasn't expecting it to already be occupied with someone he'd already met.

Hela ran full tilt at a wall and managed to perform a series of kicks and flips that somehow made her land several feet away. Thor wasn't entirely sure it ought to have been possible, especially not with the strange, spiked helmet she was wearing. He recognised it. When they were younger, Loki had almost managed to convince him that it wasn't a helmet but horns that grew right out of her head.

"We should come back later," Balder said quietly.

He had just turned to leave when a shining war hammer flew past his face, and not far away from it either.

"Careful!" he yelled. "You could have hit me!"

"If I wanted to hit you, I would have," Hela said, summoning the weapon back to her hand with magic. "Showing the freak around, are we?"

Thor felt his face burn, not that she was seeing, turned away to square up to the wall again.

"Do you fight?" she asked, clearly addressing him for all she wouldn't deign to look.

Balder shook his head urgently, but Thor was never one to turn down a challenge.

"I do, actually," he said, taking a step forward.

Another impressive flip. She landed just a hair too close to him, sneering.

"Care to demonstrate?"

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Balder tried valiantly.

"No, I'd love to spar," Thor said. "Lead on."

He looked at her build, trying to judge what her technique would be. Lean, fast probably. And those leaps... She couldn't be cornered. He'd have to adapt to that, perhaps be more defensive until he could get a feel for how to counter her attacks and...

He had stepped into the main circle for all of a second when she caught him across the face with an open-handed slap.

Shock almost prevented him blocking her next strike. Almost but not quite. He caught her wrist, flinching just a little, managing to plant his feet before she tried to trip him.

Right. No playing nice here, then. Fine.

He took a step to the left and twisted, trying to lock her arm behind her back, but of course she saw that coming and gave him the slip, backing away and beckoning to him. Daring him to strike first.

He'd fought many people before, most of them much bigger than him. He'd learned that sometimes you had to be sneaky.

He kept his eyes right, feinted like he was going that way and dived left at the last possible second. She reacted skillfully, matching his motions. Again. Again. Circling each other.

Eventually, he managed to surprise her by pretending he was feinting but really barrelling into her side, getting into a sort of grapple.

She kicked at him. Missed. He was wise to that risk now and kept out of range.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," she growled.

"And what's that?"

"A long lost prince? Please. I know a spy when I see one. You might have Father fooled, but he's just a sentimental idiot clinging to lost hope and a dead child."

She shoved at him bodily, forcing him to bend. He responded in kind.

"I'm not a spy," he said. "And if I was, I wouldn't be wasting my time the likes of you."

Oh, mistake. She was properly angry now, furious, breaking his hold with a backward elbow jab and spinning round his body to kick him in the back, sending him sprawling.

She was standing over him when he rolled, grinning as she dropped her war hammer onto his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

And then she turned and walled away. Was that it? Was that how you demonstrated victory here, by placing your weapon onto your opponent?

He snatched it up by the handle and leapt to his feet, calling out.

"Is that the best you can do?"

Balder's face had fallen into a look of shock, his trembling hand pointing.

"What?" Thor asked. "What did I do?"

It would be typical that he'd committed some kind of awful taboo really.

Hela turned on her heel and for the first time he saw something other than contempt in her eyes.

It would have been nice if it was grudging respect or maybe even neutrality. But it wasn't.

It was fear.


	19. Chapter 19

The hammer flew from his grasp into Hela's waiting hand. Her face was torn, the fear falling away in favour of simple shock.

She turned and fled, leaving Thor nonplussed.

"What's all that about?" he asked.

"You shouldn't have been able to lift the hammer," Balder said, wonder in his voice.

"Why not? It's not that heavy."

"No, you don't understand - no one can pick it up except her and Father."

What? What sense did that make?

"Not even you?" he asked. "It's not a family thing?"

"No. The hammer has to... like you, basically. And it's very, very picky."

Thor dusted himself off a little, feeling what would probably be the beginning of bruises soon enough.

"I don't think I've ever been liked by a magical object before. Another first, I suppose."

He didn't much like the way Balder was looking at him, apparently in complete awe. It was disconcerting. All he'd done was pick up a hammer. It really didn't feel all that impressive.

"We should visit the tailors," Balder said. "They'll want to make you something special for the feast."

"What feast?"

"The reveal feast. The one in your honour to celebrate your homecoming."

Homecoming... It didn't feel like home yet. Maybe it would, in time. Everything here was built for his size. No one was staring at him for being different. But all the same, everything felt slightly wrong.

Being poked with pins did not make him feel better, oddly enough, though the tailors were certainly skilled. They captured his good features. He'd never been as interested in clothes as Loki was - mainly because he felt he shouldn't compete, shouldn't try to outshine his prince - but he knew the value of feeling confident.

They gave him a cape. It seemed very important, very meaningful.

"It's your colour," Balder said. "The red... It's traditional."

"What's yours?"

"Purple. And Hela wears a deep green."

At first, he thought it would clash horribly with the ceremonial armour that they'd dressed him in. It was blue and silver; the red would surely look dreadful.

It didn't. It suited him. It made his hair stand out, showed off and accentuated his broad shoulders.

For the first time since his appearance changed, he actually felt at home in his body. He could almost forget...

"My eyes used to be this colour," he said absently.

Balder shifted a little.

"But... But not really," he said. "It was just a spell."

Thor sighed. It was perhaps unfair to expect Balder to understand. He was young yet. And besides, it wasn't exactly like anyone else had experience of something like that.

"It wasn't just a shade I wore," Thor said, trying to explain. "I _was_ Jotun. My whole physical being. And mental, I suppose. It's all I ever knew. And now... Now I'm this. Asgardian. But I don't know how to be Asgardian yet."

It really was hard to explain.

"When you say your whole being... Did you have a... You know?"

"What?" Thor asked, though he knew exactly what he was being asked. Really he was hoping that Balder would be too embarrassed to say it.

"A... A vagina."

He said it so quietly. So furtively. Blushing bright pink.

"Yes. I did."

"Huh. Er... What's that like?"

Was that a genuine question?

"I don't know how to describe it. What's it like having legs? Or kidneys? It was a body part."

"I guess I just can't imagine having one is all."

He seemed suitably chastised. Just curious. Who could blame him really?

Maybe that's what was really wrong. Thor wanted someone to blame and he couldn't really justify really being upset about any of his conclusions. Odin and Frigga had lost their child and kept things quiet. Laufey had had a moment of pity for a tiny infant and had given him a good life, more or less. It could have been worse, much worse.

If only he'd just told him the truth from the beginning...

"Is there anywhere I can bathe?" he asked. "Properly, I mean, with a pool. I think I'd like to take a nap and then be refreshed before the feasting."

"You're not coming for lunch?"

"Got to keep my appetite up."

Really he just wanted to be alone. Though why he wasn't sure. He didn't want to think, that was for sure. Thinking would just make him miserable.

Right, new plan. No more being upset about what can't be changed. You can't go back. You can't be with Loki. He wouldn't want you now anyway. Make the best of this new opportunity.

He finally had all the privileges he previously had not. Perhaps he'd be able to make an actual difference here. Oh, he'd been able to advise Loki, make suggestions, but that was all they were. Just ideas and notions. He didn't actually make decisions.

He had power here. Or he could have power if he proved himself worthy of it.

Well... He'd have to make a good impression on the people as well as his new family.


	20. Chapter 20

Dress how you want people to think of you. Thor had learned that from Loki. If he wanted to be looked at - and usually he did - he dressed to be looked at. If he wanted to seem strong, he dressed strong, emphasising his lean muscles and shoulders. If he wanted to seem soft, he'd wear fabrics that billowed, hiding them.

Thor knew the armour and cape would make him look like a warrior. Which was good; they were a warlike people, were they not? They'd like that.

But he wanted to show a different side. A thoughtful, contemplative side. He wanted to show that he was more than his bulk.

It wasn't something he'd ever had to do before.

He ventured out briefly, looking for a servant, feeling like a dreadful imposition to be bothering someone. They bobbed a curtsy. It felt so wrong.

"I'd like to have some cosmetics, if I may," he tried. "I don't know what is usual here, but..."

"For... For men, none, my lord."

"None? But how do they accent their faces?"

"Hair decoration is much more common, my lord. I can... bring ornaments."

Oh, of course. They all had hair. That made sense. Just another cultural difference he'd have to learn.

He thanked her profusely and was soon brought an array of beads and ribbons.

"How many are usual?" he asked, eyeing the crowded tray. "All of them?"

"Oh... Oh, no, my lord. It's an accent. Only one. Or maybe two at most."

What a waste. Still, he'd make do.

He braided the top layer of his hair as best he could. He didn't normally bother, but he'd seen Loki do it often enough. A little uneven, perhaps, but fine, tied in place by a ribbon the same shade as his cape.

Try as he might, he couldn't make any beads stay in place. There was probably a trick to it.

He liked the length of dark leather they'd given him though. Call him sentimental, but it made him think of Loki's hair. He plaited it into a second thin braid behind his ear. Just a little reminder. Something no one else would understand.

He tousled the rest of his hair. Soft waves, for a soft edge.

And then Balder was there, in handsome lilac armour, looking at him slightly strangely.

"Is this alright?"

"Yes. You look good. Impressive."

He didn't sound exactly convincing.

"And the bow isn't too much?"

"It's... flamboyant."

Thor sighed and removed it. That was code for too much. It was obvious.

"They'll like you," Balder said, recognising his nerves. "Don't worry about it."

Deep breaths. Positive outlook.

There was already music and chatter inside the great hall, excitement. Did they all know already that he was here? How had they managed to organise a feast in such a short time?

Or was this normal and just how they ate in the evenings?

At least he was hungry. He wouldn't be pushing his food around awkwardly tonight.

Had that really been only yesterday?

They walked in to a fanfare. Cheering. It was all for him, but he didn't feel like he'd done anything to deserve it.

"A toast to the return of our son," Odin rumbled. "Prince Thor!"

Oh, Norns, this was embarrassing...

He was seated between Frigga and Balder, and grateful for it. Allies. Shields. Hela looked like she could smell something rotten, her hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders.

And on her right...

"Princess Sannheta," Thor said, shaken to see her.

"Prince Thor," she said, nodding to an equal. "I wanted to see you in person to make sure you were well. I hope there is no ill blood between us for my actions."

"He has been returned to us," Odin said firmly. "Of course there is no ill blood."

Thor wasn't so sure of that.

"I confess, I would have preferred to be told about your suspicions rather than having magic worked on me without my consent. I believed myself ill for weeks."

He carefully did not add that he really wished he had never found out.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't be fully sure of my belief that you were the missing child right away. Your existence was not common knowledge. I couldn't risk accusing Jotunheim without obvious proof. And Laufey's spell took a lot of unraveling."

There was so much he had to hold back.

He had been so scared. And now he was in this body that everyone said was his, but it was so different to what he had always known and he could do nothing about it. It wasn't like he could ask to be changed back. He'd been a prisoner on Jotunheim all these years, held by chains he couldn't see. They had no use for him now.

And Loki wouldn't want him back. Not now he knew.

"I'm sure you did what you thought was right," he managed.

Frigga touched his arm. A comforting gesture. Maybe he could talk to her about it all. Well... Maybe not all, but some of it at least.

"He picked up Mjölnir today," Balder offered out of nowhere.

It seemed an offhand comment, but it was clearly something momentus. A big announcement. Maybe his little brother was more astute than he allowed people to know.

Odin dropped his fork, looking at him with a mix of delight and disbelief.

"Really?" he asked. "Show us. Hela, let him try."

Her look was harsh and sharp.

"I don't have it with me. No weapons at the dinner table."

Ah. The hammer. It had a name.

"First thing tomorrow," Odin said, gesturing with the new cutlery that had instantly been brought for him. "If he can do that, who knows what else?"

Thor wished he didn't feel quite so much like a commodity rather than a person.


	21. Part Three - Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's Loki been up to?  
> Well...

Try as he might, Loki's thoughts span towards Asgard almost constantly. The old enemy, still rebuilding from the last war by all accounts.

But that was just it. Whose accounts? Where did they come from? Did they have spies in the Asgardian court? How did they go by undetected?

And how could he get information from them without Father knowing?

He just wanted to know if Thor was alright. Settling in. He kept telling himself that if Thor was happy and free then he would be happy for him. He just... wanted to know. Wanted to be sure he wasn't wasting away or anything.

Easier said than done. He could ask for general news from all the realms. Prince Thor - and how strange that sounded to him - had been very well received. He was deemed handsome by the whole court - and of course he was, no surprise there. But that was it. That was all he could find out without arousing suspicion.

And that wasn't enough to satisfy him.

It was as though Thor had died. No one spoke of him. Loki went to his rooms sometimes just to sit and think and maybe to mope just a little.

They hadn't even sent Thor his things, not that he had much. Clothes that were not to Aesir tastes. A few scrolls, too big for their shelves. But he had a few treasures too. A sparkling geode. A fang, a souvenir from his first hunt. A few items of understated jewellery.

Loki packed them all up in a small trunk and took it to the Casket holders.

"I want this sent to Asgard," he said simply, daring them to challenge him. "They belong to Du... To Prince Thor."

There were two of them, mainly ceremonial guards. They glanced at one another. This was outwith protocol.

"Asgard has not accepted anything from us in centuries, my prince," one of them said. "It might be considered an act of aggression to send a package unannounced."

Unannounced? What did that mean? Was he meant to send a letter first or something?

He'd rather not. He wanted to keep this quiet, away from certain parental ears.

This was important, he thought as he lugged the chest back to his own rooms. Everyone else might be ready to forget Thor had ever lived among them, but he wasn't.

And he didn't want Thor to forget them either.

How could he do this?

Well, clearly there must have been a method of travelling between realms before the Casket was found or the Bifrost harnessed. He'd deliver it himself in person if necessary.

It wasn't like he was going to court today. His relationship with his father was... tense these days.

He hadn't realised just how much of a buffer Thor had been between them. When Loki was angry or upset, Thor had been an expert in cooling his temper or distracting him.

He missed him. Terribly. Achingly. That was the truth of it. And while he wanted Thor to be happy, there was another, darker part of him that burned just a little when he heard that Prince Thor was rapidly becoming beloved by all who met him.

Jealousy. He recognised now. How could you be jealous of a whole realm?

Well, because they had Thor. They were benefitting from his presence. And they probably didn't appreciate it as they should.

Much as he hadn't until it was too late and Thor was no longer around.

Loki did research into travel in the old days. He had no interest in trying to get there by ship, of course. This needed to be subtle; he couldn't go off gallivanting for months on end without it being blatantly obvious.

He read about hidden routes. Areas where with the right pressure, you could slip from one realm to another.

It was just a matter of finding one and sneaking out to it and hoping he was near enough to the city that he could send Thor his things. How difficult could it possibly be, really?

He grew very interested in maps all of a sudden, trying to compare old accounts with cartographs and and figure out which of these shortcuts was closest.

It was difficult not to despair. This was clearly incorrect. It claimed that one of these old passageways was within the palace grounds. That couldn't possibly be right.

Then again, his ancestors had presumably been smart enough. Maybe it had been discovered before the walls went up. Their own personal route to other realms. There would presumably have to be some concealment around it so as to prevent invasions, but it could also be a useful escape in times of crisis.

Concealment wasn't the half of it. It took him days to find the right area and then he had to learn powerful detection spells, ones that exhausted him, having to work and adapt them to handle centuries old magic, the type that seemed to calcify and seize up like old machinery.

Why was it so important? He couldn't say. He just needed to be sure Thor had something from him. Something tangible to remember him by. And if that meant sneaking into Asgard then so be it.

It took him over a month to find the portal itself. It was well hidden, near a ravine and a sheer wall, just the wrong place to try to bring out an army, but perfect for one small prince.

A week later and he was fairly sure he understood how to travel this way, how to get to Asgard. But he'd do a test run first. For safety.

He did it at night, under cover of darkness, when no one would suspect he was out of bed, moving silently out to the gardens and round to the hidden place.

And then he learned first-hand why no one travelled like this anymore.


	22. Chapter 22

The pathway glowed just slightly once he'd performed the spell to open it. A white glow, like snow glare, bright against the dark of night. Thank the Norns he was well concealed down here.

He was scared. There was no point in denying it. But every time he thought of not trying to reach Thor, of giving up on this ridiculous notion, he thought of how thoroughly outraged his father would be that he was doing this.

It was amazing what a motivating thought that was.

He had made notes on what to do, but it was fairly self-evident. Just step in. And head for Asgard.

Of course, it would help if he knew what Asgard was going to look like.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and stepped into...

Nothing.

It was the strangest sensation. Like dreaming of falling. Except instead of panic, he just felt very peaceful.

It was blindingly bright. He could tell even with his eyes closed, waiting for them to adjust before daring to open them.

He almost wished he hadn't. He had never thought himself prone to dizziness, but this would cause even the strongest stomach to lurch.

He was upon a limb of a great tree. They didn't much grow in Jotunheim, but he'd seen them elsewhere. But not like this. This tree was glowing, its branches reaching higher than he could see, the trunk descending into deep, dark invisibility.

Yggdrasil. The world tree. He knew of it, of course. He just hadn't expected it to be quite so literal.

He felt strangely weightless. Like he could step straight into the air and not fall. He wasn't stupid though; he wasn't about to try.

Behind him, a lopsided circle, like torn fabric, revealed the dark landscape of Jotunheim he'd just left. Which meant Asgard was... Further up? Further down?

All those maps and he didn't have one for this side of reality.

Be logical. Midgard was in the middle. The depths of Nornheim and Helheim were below that. Muspelheim... He wasn't quite sure, but it wasn't as though he'd make a mistake with a land of lava and fire.

Jotunheim and Asgard were on the same plain, he thought. So he'd have to work his way around...

But what if he couldn't find his way back?

Hmm. He'd heard this story somewhere before. A ball of twine, or crumbs of food, or shiny pebbles.

He could only summon an illusion of thread, but it would do, tying it to a twig at the end of his home limb and setting out.

This was not a good place for the eyes. So bright and with branches seeming to move with no wind and pass through one another, scuttling shapes barely perceptible down at the depths. The careful walk to the trunk took much longer than it should have done, the thread unspooling far slower than his steps ought to have caused it to.

And then what? He could see further branches on the other side, but getting to them? He couldn't jump that distance even if he tried.

He felt around the trunk, searching for hand-holds, only to feel a rush and a shift and suddenly the two limbs were only a step apart and he merely had to move forward.

Was it helping him? Could it tell its destination? The tree was older than the universe. Perhaps it was... sentient. Perhaps it knew he only had good intentions.

Perhaps he had unwittingly touched some kind of button or lever to cause such an effect.

Either way, he was getting further from home and the fear had begun to set in again. What if something happened to him out here. What would they think to wake up and find him gone? What if he never made it to Asgard? Or what if he did, but the entrance was under water or beneath rocks or some other impossible environment?

What if it was in Thor's chambers?

That was a ridiculous thought and he laughed at himself for it. It was much more likely to be in a ravine or a forest.

This limb had no rip to another world at the end of it. Loki was obliged to climb, hauling himself up to the next branch and further round the trunk. It was not the most dignified of traversals, but it got the job done.

And then he saw it. A shimmer, a hint of dark green. Asgard? They called it the golden realm, but surely they had plants too?

It took a lot of getting to. A lot of scrambling and clawing his way upwards, the thread in his pocket whenever he couldn't hold it. He wished he'd worn more rugged clothes.

And what was he going to do when he got through there? He couldn't appear as he was. Blue was not a subtle enough colour, even if he pulled his hood up.

A glamour, then. He didn't do this kind of thing often anymore, but it wouldn't be difficult. He'd come this far...

Seeing his usual skin tone fade away made his heart ache for Thor. How awful it must have been to see this happen and not be able to change it. Not be able to simply change back whenever he wished.

All the more important to make sure he was alright.

Remembering how strange his entrance to Yggdrasil had been, Loki steeled himself for the return, tying off his thread and rolling his shoulders.

He stepped...

And immediately tumbled down a hill.

It could have been worse, he tried to tell himself, dusting off his knees.

It was only just growing dark here, the brighter lights of a village in front of him, people finishing their day. He could orientate himself there, find his way to the palace.

His whole body felt very heavy now. It was difficult to walk even. He staggered into the town, aware that he appeared drunk, hoping that they would think him ill rather than intoxicated.

There was an old man outside one of the houses, sat upon a fine wooden chair, an earthenware cup in his hand, just enjoying the warm evening air.

"Excuse me, good sir," Loki said, carefully keeping his voice clear and steady. "Might you direct me toward the palace?"

He was fixed by the stare of dark brown eyes, a frown, confusion.

"Got an appointment with ol' Frey, 'ave yer?"

"I... Er... Frey?"

"King Frey. Him as lives there."

Oh...

"This is Vanaheim, isn't it?" Loki said, more to himself than anyone else.

The man looked him up and down, perhaps noting the evidence of a fall.

"Feeling alright? Not hit yer 'ead, 'ave yer, son?"

"No," Loki said. "Thank you. I'm merely in the wrong place. Good evening."

He left to scramble back up the hill, no doubt leaving one family to wonder about what their grandfather was talking about when he insisted he'd seen a very strange stranger indeed.


	23. Chapter 23

Attempt the second went far better.

Loki untied his knot and respooled the thread a little, trying the next branch up. Vanaheim and Asgard were closer than the other realms, he thought, both politically and physically. Oh, they'd had a particularly big fall out some millennia ago, but that was long gone. Now they intermarried frequently.

Eventually, he found the tear and stepped into a clearing in a forest, far more civilised as entrances went.

The sky struck him first. So pink and golden, dark at one side. On approximately the same time as Vanaheim it seemed, if this was Asgard.

Picking a direction more or less at randon, he walked until he emerged from the trees. It was humid here, but cool enough. Not the sweltering heat he had expected.

And definitely Asgard. Nowhere else had a palace like that.

It was beautiful. Shining spires reflecting the light, shimmering, golden. That was where Thor lived now. Different from home, but just as impressive, surrounded by a sprawling city.

It was there he directed his feet, having got used to the weight on his way through the forest. It was strange to be so free, so clandestine. He had snuck in here. No one would know his true identity.

He might be anyone. They didn't know.

Now was not the time to imagine other lives. He had to find out how to get into the palace and then he had to get home and at least try to get a little sleep before the morning. He was already exhausted, running on excitement and adrenaline.

The main street led directly to the palace at the centre and despite years of cultivating a taste for attention, Loki found himself relishing anonymity. He walked through the streets of people packing up their wares or returning home or going into taverns and eateries and he looked just like everyone else.

Well... a hair more attractive than most perhaps, but all the same.

There were guards, of course. That's what he expected. And they watched him approach with suspicion.

"If you're here for the feast, you're too late," one said. "The tables are full. Come back tomorrow."

How did you go about meeting royalty? He was used to being on the other side of this arrangement.

He batted his eyes just a little, trying to seem charming and stupid. That worked on some people.

"I've travelled a long way to get here," he said truthfully. "How would one go about begging an audience with Prince Thor?"

They groaned. Perhaps they had this question a lot.

"Look, we keep telling you lot, there's no way to guarantee you'll see Thor. I know Her Majesty can be a little... difficult, but she's fair. If you just want to gawp, wait for a public appearance."

"When's the next one?"

"How should we know? We don't set the calendar. Do us a favour and don't waste our time."

No one had ever spoken to him like that before. It was refreshing in a way, but he wouldn't much like it every day.

He thanked them all the same for their advice and took a walk around the palace walls. A long, long walk. How big was this place? It was more like a walled fortress than a simple castle. There must be a lot of people living inside.

Where would the royal chambers be? Inside? High up?

Was that light up there Thor's? Or that one? Or that?

Too many. He couldn't guess. And it wasn't like he could just scale the wall and infiltrate that way. He'd be arrested before he could say "Prince Thor won't mind."

He finished his circle and addressed the guards again.

"Is there any way to send Prince Thor... a gift?" he asked.

One of them laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, I know he's very handsome, but alas, he can't fraternise with the likes of us. And we can't accept every cake that every grandmother wants to bake for him. Now, unless you know someone in the palace to pass it on, I doubt you'll have much luck. Alright? Get home safe."

Hmm...

Right, he thought as he began heading for home. Ways to get what he wanted... He ought to be good at this. Though, to be fair, he usually manipulated through being attractive or through being a prince.

The first did not appeal oddly enough and the latter was not a possibility.

But there was always bribery.

He was feeling fairly boyant when he reached Yggdrasil again. Yes, he was going to be tired tomorrow, but he'd done some positive reconnaissance.

Pulling his way back along his thread path, yawning a little, he hoped no one had realised he was gone.

It was a little disconcerting to step back through and find that not nearly enough time had passed for the length of time he'd been away.

Did time stop when you were on Yggdrasil?

Or did it just work differently? Its own time?

It was too late to ponder the wonders of the universe. 

Not when he could be pondering how to befriend a guard and infiltrate the Asgardian palace.

With only the best of intentions, of course.


	24. Chapter 24

"Your father requests your presence for breakfast, my prince."

Loki glanced up to meet a servant's worried face, ducking down in his doorway.

"He does, does he?"

"Very, er... insistently."

Ugh... Sounded like Laufey was in a mood. Like he'd be grumpy to everyone else if Loki didn't show his face. They didn't deserve that; this wasn't their doing.

"Tell him I'll be there shortly."

It had been a week since he'd been to Asgard. He'd been plotting his next move. You couldn't just barge in, especially when you knew nothing of the culture really. It would be all too easy to make a mistake.

He plaited his hair deliberately slowly to let his father fume a little, to make him wait, before making his way to Laufey's private rooms.

Smiling brightly, he acted as though nothing was wrong. Laufey looked at him with an expression of nearly pure exhaustion.

"Loki..."

"Mm?" he said, sitting down and stirring the bowl of thick fish soup waiting at his place.

"I'm sorry, alright? If it had been up to me, he never would have gone."

It was the first time he'd so much as mentioned Thor. He didn't have to say the name even. They both knew exactly who he was talking about.

"And when you inevitably found out we were having sex?" Loki asked. "What then?"

He was deliberately being more vulgar than he might have been, trying to provoke a reaction.

"It would never have worked between you anyway, Loki. You'd have got bored, sooner or later. Besides, he's an Asgardian, so it doesn't matter what I would have done. It's irrelevant. My point is that you can't sulk forever."

Loki knew he'd gone several shades deeper complexioned than he normally was. Might as well have just told him he was a flaky, spoiled brat.

Well, whose fault was that?

"The only person who ever understood me, who ever knew what it was like to live as I do, turned out to be a completely different species and has been taken away from me in the first bloom of our first romance. Excuse me if I take a little while to get over it."

"There's taking one's time getting over things and then there's wallowing in misery out of spite. They are not the same thing."

Loki took a slow, deliberate mouthful of soup.

"Then how would you like me to be?" he asked. "Should I pretend he meant nothing to me? I'm good at pretending, you know."

Laufey huffed and gestured and finally rested his face in his hand.

"I just want you to be civil," he said firmly. "I have apologised, I will apologise again and I realise this is very difficult, but you have to be an adult about this."

He looked tired. And Loki was tired too.

"Alright," he said, putting more sincerity into his voice than he actually felt. "Fine. I'll make an effort."

A relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Come to court today. It's not good for you to coop yourself up like you have been."

Maybe that was true. Still, if Laufey thought he would so easily distracted, he had another thing coming.

But this was good. He could play the dutiful son and go about his day fulfilling his responsibilities. In fact, he'd be more attentive than normal. It would never be suspected that he was sneaking out at night to go to Asgard.

And he would be sneaking out again. Tonight. That's how annoyed he was.

If he understood correctly, their days occurred at slightly different times. It had been dark when he left home, but only dusk in Asgard. He could perhaps time his visits a little earlier or later depending on what seemed best.

To start with, he needed to get into the royal residence. There were the banquets, but he didn't know how they worked. Only nobles were allowed to dine in Jotunheim's palace. Perhaps there was some kind of ballot system or application involved?

Befriend a guard. Where did guards go? Taverns, that was where, surely. He could go to the nearest drinking establishment, buy a few drinks and find out how to get what he wanted.

Of course, it sounded simple, put like that. So easy. As though their tongues could be loosened so readily.

He deliberately yawned a lot during dinner and went to bed early, using magic to lock the door from the inside after he'd left the room just in case someone tried to check on him.

This time, he checked on his disguise in advance. Passably Asgardian. He looked like himself, more or less, but pale and with greenish eyes that shocked him when he first looked.

Still, with his hair slicked back, it wasn't like anyone would so much as suspect that he was not what he seemed.

It was a far quicker journey now he knew where he was going, both through the branches of Yggdrasil and then through the forest to the city.

The streets were still vibrant with the closing business of the day, people returning home or heading out for the evening, a steady ebb and flow of ordinary folk. Jotunheim was probably much the same, not that he ever saw it.

Loki thought it best to be near the palace for his purposes, but to his surprise, the gates were open. People were coming and going, presumably to the feast or to some other open area.

In fact there were quite a number of people all going the same way. Was this a route into the palace proper? Surely they didn't let just anyone walk in. It would be dangerous. Or risky at least.

No, there seemed to be some kind of celebration going on. There were brightly coloured lanterns, flowers, singing even. Perhaps a national festival of some kind.

Well... To remain disguised as a local, he could hardly ask what it was. He'd have to be sneaky.

The singing was just folk songs. Sad tunes about lost loves - to which he could certainly relate, but which were not relevant - and the usual kind of "our land is great, all other lands wish they were us" songs that seemed fairly common all over the universe.

It was so easy to slip through the crowds. No one gave him so much as a second glance. And there was a kind of general movement, a push towards the palace itself. There was already a large gathering of people outside, as though waiting for something.

Loki decided to wait too, though he did carefully slip from space to space so as to find a better view of whatever it was.

He was in luck. He couldn't have planned things better as Odin and his wife and the three children came out onto a balcony. A public appearance. And he'd thought he'd have to wait for one...

He stared at Thor. He looked good, for an Asgardian. Very good. His face was still as handsome as ever. The clothes could have been worse and his hair was as shiny as his armour, his shoulders as broad as ever.

Maybe it was a little mean to wonder why he hadn't just wasted away out of sadness, but he was doubtlessly trying to make the best of things.

Odin had been speaking, but Loki hadn't really been listening. Something about a wonderful day and the beginning of a splendid festival. Still no idea what it was for. There would be a tournament tomorrow and a ball the night after that. Useful. He could no doubt gain entry then, during the hubbub, and return Thor's things.

Yes, that was the point of this, wasn't it? Not just trying to see Thor.

He couldn't be entirely sure, but he was fairly certain that Thor's gaze fixed on him for a moment, a faint frown coming over his face. Like he recognised him but thought it completely impossible.

Which of course it was, and Loki knew it was even as his heart throbbed in his chest.

But then the youngest one, Balder, nudged Thor in the ribs and said something to him and the moment passed.

For one thing, Loki moved, ducking to a different spot, watching as Thor clearly tried to find him again. He might be glad to see him, but no one else would be. You couldn't have foreign princes sneaking in. That would be an act of war, or certainly seen that way.

Still, his heart was thrilling at the fact that Thor had seen him. He probably thought he was imagining a man in the crowd who looked so much like his lover, but that proved Loki was still in his thoughts, still in his mind now. Even disguised.

Subtly managing to sneak out after the royal family went back into, Loki tried to formulate a plan for getting Thor's gift to him.

Of course, it would be easier if he could stop giggling at the thought that Thor was still thinking of him despite all the changes in his life.


	25. Chapter 25

It was easy to seem perkier the next day, even if Loki was a little distracted. He could sneak into the palace, especially if he practised hiding in plain sight and illusion spells...

Hmm. And then what? He didn't know where Thor's chambers were and he couldn't leave the chest just anywhere where anyone could find it and know he'd been there.

Hmm... Would Thor attend the tournament? Maybe he could... intercept him in some way. Leave it in the bathing chamber or something. And then Thor would know and wonder and dream just a little...

He was distracted all day by dreams where Thor immediately demanded to be brought back to Jotunheim to be by his side forever, or where he waited in the shadows to see Thor find his trinkets and be overcome by emotion and then revealed himself only to be swept into an embrace and more...

It was a little ridiculous, he had to admit. It was far more likely that he'd be caught and all manner of trouble would be sparked.

He'd just have to be extra careful.

For all he knew, he wouldn't be allowed to take a box into the arena. Still, worth a try.

And he desperately wanted to see Thor again, even from a distance. Maybe there would be some way they could meet. Maybe Thor could facilitate that, once he knew he was not rejected.

That was going to be a particular hurdle. He had vomited during their last meeting. It might be difficult to spirit some romance out of that.

Poor Thor probably thought he wasn't wanted.

Suddenly fear gripped Loki's heart. If Thor thought he was unwanted, maybe he had... sought comfort elsewhere. With someone else.

Well, Loki would forgive him an indiscretion. And perhaps he had not. He was royal now. If he'd had any kind of high profile dalliance, no doubt word would have reached them.

Ugh, why was he even thinking about this? They were very unlikely to be together. He just wanted to right the wrong, that was all. To make it clear that he wasn't horrified, that he did not regret their time together, that he would treasure their relationship in fact.

That's what he wanted to do. That was all.

It wasn't like Thor owed him anything. He was free to do as he wished. This was merely an amicable action to ensure all was well between them.

The chest was a little heavier than he remembered, strapping it to his back for ease of carrying. He'd invented some excuse for leaving dinner early, some correspondence with a distant Duke that he needed to finish, even though it was already done and merely needed to be sent.

Still discretion was needed, sneaking past the guards and outside. It wasn't like there was anyone else of his stature in the palace that he might be mistaken for.

Yggdrasil called to him in twinkling tones, like a bell, like it recognised him. In fact, the sound didn't seem to go through his ears at all. It just arrived in his head, perfect and clear.

"Hello," he said to it, feeling slightly ridiculous. "Thank you for helping me."

Did it chime in response? He wasn't sure. Or maybe it wasn't talking to him.

It was raining in Asgard. Loki knew what rain was, of course. On hot days they even experienced it in Jotunheim on occasion. But he'd never known rain like this; huge fat droplets bouncing down from the leaves above him, fragrant humid air.

He was drenched in minutes, his feet squelching with every step as he made his way down into the city, people rushing from shelter to shelter but still cheerful.

Had he missed the action? Where would it be held?

He ducked under an awning to hide from the worst of the weather for a moment, a merchant packing up her stall.

"Heading to the amphitheatre?" she asked. "Do you think this is a bit of mind games from Prince Thor?"

He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, but he found being agreeable tended to help with most things. And that sometimes just meant agreeing with things.

"Could be," he said.

"Mm. I wouldn't mind, just wish he'd waited until after I'm taken everything in. So, who's your money on?"

Uh...

"Oh, I couldn't choose," Loki tried.

That seemed to pass muster. She grunted, closing up the last of her wares into a wheeled trunk.

"My daughter favours Thor, but she's young and he is handsome. I don't put much store in it. Hela will surely prevail. I remember the war, you see. I have seen her fight many times, in play and for real."

Loki said something about her perhaps being right and began making his way towards the palace gates.

Odin would have his children fight? Really? They were even more barbaric than he thought.

He followed the crowd again. There was tangible excitement, people loudly discussing the upcoming contest.

"It'll be interesting to see. He's certainly strong. My cousin's an Einharjar. Says he's very impressive."

"But you know where he grew up. I'm sorry, but he's not like us. He never will be. Hela is sure to defeat him."

"Oh, of course. I said impressive, not in with a chance."

It was not a ticketed event, it seemed, but the seats were tightly packed and there was standing room only near the front. Loki switched the trunk to be on his chest, both to be more aware of it and not hit anyone, but also to guard it from thieves.

It appeared to be some kind of obstacle course. Fitness and speed demonstrations, a competition rather than a fight.

Loki planted his feet, and tried to find the best vantage point, the best view.

If life was going to present a damp Thor to him, even in a shape he was still surprised by, he wasn't exactly going to say no.


	26. Part Four - Thor

How had he ended up here?

Well... That was a long story.

Thor couldn't say that he had not settled into his new life well. Most of the time, he was even happy, more or less. He had power, more or less. He had influence, more or less. He was sent to listen to people and help sort out their disputes or their problems, raising some issues with his parents but mainly able to make his own decisions.

Of course, they only gave him simple cases to preside over. He was still proving himself a little.

But he was quickly gaining a reputation as a fair and compassionate judge. More than one person had told him how happy they were to have been shown to him instead of to Hela.

Though, of course, that caused tensions.

"He is undermining me," she announced at dinner one night. "I had a woman decide she would come back another time rather than let me deal with her case. It's only because they fancy him."

"I assure you, it is not deliberate," Thor said softly, keen to fight his own battles. "I don't tell them how to think. Perhaps they find you intimidating."

He meant it as a compliment. Maybe. It was certainly a plausible excuse.

Most of the time, he just tried to keep out of her way. His very existence was an affront to her. Though most other people were patronising - they seemed to assume he would be ignorant, stupid and devoid of any knowledge whatsoever - that was preferable to outright disdain.

And some people treated him more or less normally. He had some acquaintances at the training ground who were almost friends. Almost.

But it was mainly Frigga and Balder who kept him from wallowing in negativity too much, the latter with his boundless enthusiasm for life and the former in a more quiet way.

And she was teaching him magic, hence the current downpour.

His first foster parents had not taught him anything like that, and Loki had had a natural flair which Thor had never thought to even try to match. He'd never been able to freeze anything or produce icicles as most of the military personnel learned.

So when Frigga asked him about magic, he'd been quick to deny having any and had needed some coaxing to discover he did have a power after all.

The problem was that now he had activated it, as it were, he couldn't work out how to make it stop.

The rain came when he called it, yes, but it also came when he was sad and thunder rolled everywhere when he was particularly thrilled or angry. He had cultivated an ability to hide his moods fairly well in Jotunheim and this was undoing all his good work.

At least Asgard seemed to experience rain frequently enough that it couldn't always be traced back to him. And no doubt some people thought he was doing this as a show of force rather than of misery.

There was no way to win here. If he beat Hela, she'd hate him all the more. If he was beaten by her, she'd still manage to twist that somehow. Perhaps that he was too weak to truly be Asgardian or some such thing.

And then there was that man he'd seen yesterday. That man who reminded him so much of Loki. He'd thought for a moment that it was Loki.

But it couldn't have been. That didn't make sense.

All the same, he'd almost been considering asking Heimdall to track down the mystery gentleman, until he remembered that Heimdall reported to Odin and he'd be in for a world of headaches if there was a suggestion that he was interested in someone unsuitable.

It had probably been just his eyes playing tricks on him. His thoughts running away with him.

Sannheta was coming to the feast tonight. She was clever and her heart was in the right place, but Thor found her difficult to be around. He couldn't forget, he couldn't move on from his past when every time he saw her he thought about how she'd ruined his life.

No. No thoughts like that. _Changed_ his life. It was different.

"Ready?" Balder asked behind him, startling him into finishing buckling his light leather armour.

"More or less."

"People are very excited. Don't worry - you can't lose. Either Hela beats you and everyone understands or you beat her and everyone will be thrilled that the underdog won."

Well, that was one way to look at it.

It wasn't like he could back out now.


	27. Chapter 27

People were cheering. They seemed to do a lot of that here. Must be culturally normal.

Thor entered the arena and waved, trying to look happier than he was. This was all just fun and games. Just the royals being good sports and making a spectacle of themselves. Definitely not an opportunity for Hela to literally rub his face in the dirt.

She entered from the opposite side, very much dressed for a fight even though, in theory, that wasn't what they were doing. Mjölnir wasn't here, but Thor felt that was rather for her benefit than his. He'd barely seen the hammer since he'd shown Odin that he could hold it. Hela guarded it jealously, seemingly desperate for no one to see him lift it.

He didn't really care, if he was honest. While he had felt some tingles of recognition when he had picked it up a second time, like meeting an old friend, he still didn't fully understand what what was supposedly so special about it.

Still, no weapons. This was mainly a game of speed and agility, neither of which were exactly his forte, but at least there was a degree of strength demonstration too as they limbered up.

It was almost familiar, picking up huge rocks, stacking them high. He used to do this kind of thing to try to impress Loki a lifetime ago. He didn't know if it worked. He always figured Loki would be bored by that kind of thing, but he sometimes came to watch.

Hindsight was a fine thing.

Hela was doing backflips and cartwheels. All very impressive. Thor had to admit, he was a little envious of the way she moved, her grace and flexibility. He'd always seemed small and delicate in Jotunheim and he had rebelled against that, but here he was above average in height and breadth and suddenly felt very cumbersome.

Maybe he just had a need to be contrary.

There was polite applause when Odin stood, his arms outstretched, smiling at the crowd with Frigga on his left and Balder his right.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, the phrase still sounding so odd to Thor's ears. Laufey had always said guests or friends or something similar. "Welcome. As many of you know, my daughter Hela is always proud to demonstrate her skills on the battlefield. This year, however, she is joined by her brother Thor, newly returned to us from Jotunheim."

Cheering. Again. He waved to show willing, Hela smiling at him from across the arena. A strange smile. Too many teeth.

A horrible chill went down his spine, like when a quiet noise at night suddenly stops and becomes noticeable for the first time only by its absence.

They met in the middle and clasped hands briefly. It was a fairly simple course. Circular, starting at opposite ends but travelling in the same direction. The winner would be whoever successfully caught the other.

Thor knew he had no chance. He'd seen Hela leap over walls the same height as her with no problem and while he might be able to out-manoeuvre her on the hanging bars or when climbing was unavoidable, she'd quickly catch him again.

Still, he was resolved to try, watching for the signal to begin and vaulting his first obstacle.

The crowd became nothing but noise, cheers and yells and gasps. He fell into something of a rhythm. Jump, bound, bound, leap, pull, haul, jump...

It was good to be so active. His arms tingled with motion, electricity in his veins almost as he began to genuinely enjoy himself. The rain even eased off.

Rounding the shorter corner, he saw Hela doing twists and flips, playing and showing off. Two could play at that.

Instead of using the bars as intended, hand over hand, he launched himself up onto them and skipped along the top, winking to the crowd. It was neither elegant nor dignified, but they seemed to be enjoying it, cheering and waving.

Of course, getting down again was more of a scramble, but that didn't matter.

They'd done perhaps four circuits before something went wrong. It was subtle at first. A creak beneath his hands as he climbed a wooden wall. A distinct swaying motion once he reached the top.

He heard a gasp, hundreds of people inhaling all at once, and then a cry of alarm and then everything lurched sideways with a sickening crunch.

Thor became aware that he was going to fall and that it was going to hurt, possibly a lot. It was like his brain was trying to tell him it gently, trying to stay calm.

The wooden structure gave way, shattering beneath him, shards of wood erupting all around him, a slow plummet downwards.

His knees hit the ground first, a decidedly bad noise followed by an agonising pain. And then silence.

Could he stand? He tried, but that made his legs feel like they were on fire so instead he lay in the mud, where it was safe. Hela's feet swam into view, all black leather and pointed details.

"Caught you," she said quietly before yelling for healers to come at once.

Thor found himself rolled over and bundled off to the infirmary, a sea of worried faces looking down at him.

He had to be very hurt indeed, for one of them really did look a lot like Loki.


	28. Chapter 28

The last time he'd been in a soul forge had been the best and second-worst day of his life, Thor reflected. It had been the day they told him he was different but also the night he and Loki had given in to their mutual passion. The worst day was of course the one that had followed, when he'd had to leave.

Shattered kneecaps, plus some fairly impressive splinters and cuts. They gave him something for the pain and bandaged him up, but the heavier mending would come overnight as healing stones knitted his bones back together. It wouldn't be pleasant, but it would be quick at least.

The whole family came down to see him and fuss, even Hela, though she seemed to be there rather under duress.

"Please," Thor said. "Go to the feast and reassure everyone that I am well. Have a good evening. It's nothing that won't recover."

"Sannheta will be very disappointed to miss you," Odin said.

Thor hesitated and resisted the urge to shrug, just.

"Please give her my apologies," he said.

There had been something about the All-Father's tone that had rubbed him the wrong way. It wasn't like he'd done it deliberately. It was just an accident.

They left him be, and eventually he fell asleep and dreamed of the man who looked so much like Loki.

It was folly, really. Looks were one thing, but even the closest physical similarity wouldn't be Loki. Wouldn't have his sense of fun and mischief, wouldn't be clever like him. Wouldn't be stubborn or occasionally vindictive like he was - and let it never be said that Thor was only remembering his good points.

It would be like food turning to ash in his mouth to find someone who looked so right and yet was so very, very wrong.

A faint click woke him, the door closing, no doubt a nurse checking in.

And now there was a chest on the floor, clearly placed within reach.

Thor frowned faintly. What was this? Medical equipment? Why would they put that so close to him? Besides, it didn't look like the other items around the infirmary. It looked almost... Jotun.

With a little straining of his poor hurt body, he managed to drag it up onto the bed, resting it carefully on his thighs and not his knees, and opened it.

Oh, this must still be a dream...

Tears leapt unbidden to his eyes. This chest was full of his things from Jotunheim. Some precious, some little more than junk, but all gut-wrenchingly familiar. His heart ached for long-ago times when everything made sense and he had so few cares except eating and training and spending time with Loki - his three favourite pastimes.

There was a bangle he'd worn as a child, a pendant that Laufey had brought him from Nornheim, the results of his first efforts at stone carving, old schooling things...

How had this got here? Had they finally sent it? Why, then, was there no note? Not even a line from his once-adoptive family?

He couldn't expect Loki to want to write, of course, but maybe a word or two from the palace to confirm that he was well would have soothed him a little.

He sighed heavily. No doubt they had thought this might cheer him. It ought to. Happy memories. But instead it made him all the more aware of what he'd left behind.

Learning to look back fondly would be a hard lesson.

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes in an effort to resist crying properly. It wasn't even really sadness but a horrible, gaping emptiness. And worse, a sense that he had no right to be unhappy. Was he not fed and clothed and loved here? How dare he be miserable when other people had faced pain and loss like he couldn't imagine.

A whisper of fabric was what told him he wasn't alone. Faint, but definite. A nurse? Another patient? It wouldn't do to let anyone see him like this.

He sat up urgently, wiping his eyes like he was just tired.

"I'm sorry," he said brusquely. "I didn't realise there was someone here."

His bleary sight resolved itself to an empty room. But he'd definitely heard...

He looked around carefully. Something out of place. Something wrong.

Like a curtain that was decidedly bulkier than the other.

Who would be hiding there? Well... anyone, really. Perhaps someone had come to ensure he was well. Some person who'd snuck in and then hidden when the nurse came.

"I see you there," Thor said softly. "You're behind the drape. Come out."

No movement.

"Please?" Thor tried. "You won't be in trouble."

Still nothing by way of motion, but was that a soft chuckle? Like they weren't so sure that that would be the case.

"I'd come over to you, but I fear I'm rather unable to at the moment. I'm at your mercy, it seems."

He was joking, trying to get rid of any fear this mystery visitor might have.

The curtain moved, pulled by a pale hand.

Oh...

Oh, he really must be dreaming.


	29. Chapter 29

It was him. The man from the crowd. The one who looked so much like Loki.

Thor stared. He couldn't help it. The likeness was truly uncanny apart from the skin and the green eyes. Everything else from hair to height and build and mouth and everything was right.

"Sorry," Thor managed. "I'm sorry. You must have seen me looking at you. I meant nothing by it, it's just... you look so much like someone I used to know."

The man put his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes.

"It's me, you idiot."

Even the voice was right, the voice he heard in his dreams...

And then the man glanced down and made a little sound of understanding and suddenly, as easily as taking off a coat, the pale skin became blue, the eyes red, the clothes even changed a little, and Loki himself stood before him.

Thor's eyes were going to dry out permanently from all this staring.

"It can't be you," he said. "You can't be here. I must be more badly hurt than I thought."

"Of course it's me. Really. Would you like some proof or something?"

The first thought that entered Thor's head was to ask for a kiss. He felt his cheeks heating. What a ridiculous thing to even think of. Loki wouldn't want that, not now he was... like this.

"How?" he asked instead. "How are you here?"

"Oh, you know me. I have my ways."

He smiled and it was like nothing had changed. Thor found himself laughing. This was ridiculous. How could Loki be here? It didn't make sense at all.

"Why didn't you send word that you were coming?" he asked, trying to shuffle over to make room for Loki to sit beside him. It was much harder to do on a bed built for a single Asgardian, and injured as he was.

A serious look, almost disbelieving.

"If I was here officially, I wouldn't have had to disguise myself. I wasn't even thinking to see you in person, but, well, you're hurt, so... Getting into a hospital ward is rather easier than accessing a royal chamber."

So much of Loki's conversation was what was unsaid.

"No one knows you're here," Thor concluded.

"Mm."

Loki perched on the edge of the mattress, looking so out of place, impossible really.

"I wanted to see you," he said quietly. "To give you back your things and make sure you're... alright. Healthy and happy."

Thor hesitated. His first instinct was to reassure, but he didn't know how. Should he pretend there was nothing wrong? Was that what Loki wanted to hear?

"Well, my knees have been better," he said.

Loki sighed, looking away, anxiously picking at his hand.

"That's not what I mean and you know it. Are you happy here? Are they... nice people?"

Thor's heart ached fair more than any injury could, it seemed. Maybe it was time to be honest.

"Do you want the truth or what I think you want to hear?"

Loki looked at him, startled red eyes, shocked almost.

"The truth," he said. "Of course the truth."

Well, then...

"I try to be happy," Thor said. "And they're very nice to me. Hela less so, but Frigga and Balder keep me right, keep me busy. I'm learning magic now, so that's... interesting. It's weather-based. Storms and rain, thunder. And I have a lot more duties than I had in Jotunheim. But..."

"But?"

Was that a hint of hope in his voice?

"But I miss you. All the time. I catch myself thinking about you at the least opportune times, whether you'd like certain things or laugh at them, and I know it's useless because... Because..."

It was so difficult to say.

"Because you wouldn't want..."

The shift was sudden, and then he had a lap full of Loki, cupping his face, so close to him.

"I know my reaction made it seem that way, but it was just the shock," he said, rushed, like the words were bursting out of him. "You're still you. And I miss you too, I miss you so much."

He moved in for kisses, and it was agony for Thor to turn away.

"We can't," he said, remembering how he had said those words before, how he had wasted so much time...

"Why not?" Loki asked. "I've been thinking and this actually makes everything a lot easier. You're a prince now. And with my father wanting me married off, tied down? Well, who better than you? He knows you, he knows how you are."

Thor hesitated. That made... sense. Did that make sense? Or was his mind being clouded by proximity to his dearest love?

"Your father would never agree," he said. "Nor mine."

"They're stubborn, yes, but I'm sure we could convince them. Lasting peace, no risk of war from either side. And it's what we both want."

It sounded so hopeful. Thor wished he could believe it was so simple.

And of course, there was something else troubling him...

"Before thinking this way, you have to know that I don't... look the same," he tried.

Loki scoffed lightly.

"Yes, Thor, I had noticed."

"No, I mean... My body is not the same anymore."

How explicit was he going to have to get? How clear was he going to have to make it?

"What are you talking about?"

"You know... I don't have everything anymore and I have some extra things and I don't want you trying for this, working for it and then being... disappointed that I'm not how you expect."

Loki looked down at him, an emperor upon a throne, shaking his head.

"I don't care. It's you that I want, however you come to me."


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?

Thor realised a few seconds after Loki's lips met his that he'd been misremembering how good kissing felt.

It was much, much better than he recalled. Exciting and peaceful all at once, his hands flying to Loki's waist, pulling him close.

Oh, this was foolish and impulsive and ridiculous and besides, it would never work. They'd never manage to be together without a lot of inter-realm political backflipping and maybe they both knew that deep down and that was why Loki was kissing him so fervently, his legs moving like he was...

"Ow!" Thor grunted. He was injured after all.

"Sorry."

"No, it's good, just be gentle with me."

Loki chuckled and started giving him the most infuriating, softest kisses, enough to drive him to frustration, giggling at him and moving to his neck and...

And that was a knock at the door.

"Prince Thor? May I come in?"

Sannheta. Thor looked at Loki with wide eyes, jerking his head, trying to tell him to hide. Not that he needed to be told; he was already heading behind his curtain again, taking the chest of Thor's things with him. Hopefully she wouldn't look too closely in that direction.

"Yes," Thor called, pulling up the blanket. "Come in."

She entered somehow apologetically, ducking her head low and pulling over a chair without scraping it on the floor at all. The elves' reputation for grace was not ill-founded.

"How are you?" she asked kindly. "How bad is it?"

"Er... Not so bad," Thor said. "Could have been a lot worse. They're planning to mend me properly overnight."

"I was very sad not to see you at the banquet. I thought your father planned to make the announcement. Still, I suppose the ball will do just as well."

Thor's brain was not keeping up with this conversation. He was still recovering from the shock of Loki being in Asgard. How had he even got here if not by Casket? How was he going to get back?

"Announcement?" he said vaguely.

"The engagement."

"The... Sorry, what engagement?"

"Our engagement," she said, frowning in confusion. "Didn't he tell you?"

Thor stared at her, mildly horrified.

"No. No, he didn't."

She sighed softly, pityingly.

"Then I'm glad you weren't ambushed in public. That would have been very cruel."

Cold seemed to have entered Thor's heart and bones and entire being. He felt sick in fact. Was there a bowl nearby?

"But I..." he tried, his throat suddenly dry. "But I don't want to marry you. No offence."

"None taken. I quite understand. But you must think of your position. Already your sister is trying to have you killed. A political marriage will strengthen your position, and allow you to leave the realm to be more secure."

There was a lot of information being thrown at him suddenly.

"My sister is what, sorry?"

She looked at him with some confusion, frowning, head tilted slightly to the side. Like she was wondering if he was ill. Or maybe stupid.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed Hela's hostility. She sabotaged the obstacle course today in a clear attempt on your life."

Surely not... Yes, she clearly had no fondness for him, but that meant nothing. It certainly didn't mean she wanted any harm to befall him.

"I shall speak with my father," he said firmly. "There is no engagement. Consider it called off."

"Hm," she said, clearly amused. "You seem to think either of us have a say in the matter. I find it's best to stay positive if you can. I could do a lot worse by way of a spouse and I fear you could too. Once the shock has worn off, things will seem better."

She bid him goodnight and good healing and left him alone.

Things would not seem better. Despair would set in once the shock wore off. Probably.

This whole day had been lurching and falling, it seemed. Outside, a peal of thunder rang out, rain lashing the windows suddenly. His magic knew his mood, that was evident.

Loki emerged, rushing to him, his touch pulling him to the present with a degree of urgency.

"Run away with me."

Thor spluttered out a laugh, with more than a hint of a sob in it.

"I can barely walk..."

"I can fix that. We'll go back to Jotunheim."

"I'll freeze, and besides, they'll just come for me. Look, I'm sure we can avoid this, I'll talk to Odin..."

"You think One-eye will listen? And that Hela won't get you first?"

Thor groaned slightly.

"She's not trying to kill me."

"What if she is?"

Well, he didn't know. He had no idea. He'd just have to keep away from her.

"They can't force me to wed."

"They can. They will. You have to get out."

It was difficult trying to think calmly.

"At least let me try things my way first and if it doesn't work then... Then, yes, I'll come with you."

Loki very clearly didn't like this. He had a look to him that normally Thor would bow to, would allow to rule him. But not this time. They had to be careful.

And besides, they were equals now. He could stand his ground.

"Fine," Loki said, a little tersely. "But we need a method to communicate. Can you ever get out of here so we can meet?"

"I've never tried."

Loki thought about it, lips pursed.

"Which are your chambers?" he asked. "Which side of the palace are they on?"

"Why?"

"I'll return tomorrow. If your plan has worked and you're free to suggest a different union, display something white out of your window. If not, hang out your cape and I will come in and fetch you."

"How will you do that?"

"Leave the planning to me, sweetheart."

Thor found his heart thrilling at the endearment, even if this plan was thoroughly ridiculous.

"Alright," he said. "Alright, yes."

Loki smiled at him, leaning in to kiss him again, sighing sadly.

"I wish I could stay here all night, but alas..."

It was agony to watch him leave, changing his complexion and pulling up his hood, taking the chest back with him as well. Thor could get it when they were reunited properly.

"Wait," he said, Loki's hand upon the door.

"Hm?"

"One last kiss?"


	31. Part Five - Loki

Planning was difficult. Loki was almost paralysed with worry.

He had to figure out a way to get into the palace and then, more importantly, get Thor out. It was going to be nearly impossible.

For the first time since he'd begun making an effort to keep his father happy, he stayed away from court, claiming to be sick. In fact, he was just in bed reading all he could about physical transformation.

After all, he'd remembered something else - there was a ball tonight. A dance. The crowd could be useful, but only if he managed to blend in, and that meant getting in at all.

If he could just become a bird or an insect, it would be easy. He could just fly in. But that took a lifetime of work, a lifetime he did not have. The books were very clear about the horrors that might befall someone underpractised. How you could get stuck in the other form. Or, worse, get stuck halfway through turning back.

But looking like another person was easier. You didn't have to worry about shape particularly, or not the larger parts anyway. Head, arms, legs, torso. That was all the same.

He'd disguise himself as one of their guards. The armour was fairly easy to copy in an illusion. Just gold metal and leather and suchlike. And then he'd meet Thor and they'd get out of the palace and run to Yggdrasil.

If he wasn't so worried, Loki would look forward to showing Thor the world tree. It had been ages since they'd last had a proper adventure together.

If only it was in better circumstances.

He was reading about other transformations too. Maybe he could... change Thor back. If he wanted to be changed.

It was a delicate subject. If he suggested it, there would be potential implications of him rejecting Thor's new body. He'd been through so much; Loki didn't want to cause him more stress.

But he could make him more comfortable perhaps.

That could wait. He needed to practice his illusions and any other spells he might need.

It wasn't a surprise that Laufey came to check on him. And it was lucky that between stress and hard work, Loki did look suitably out of sorts, asleep before the excitement to come.

He woke when Laufey laid a cool hand on his forehead.

"It's alright. Go back to sleep. You're not feverish at least."

"Mm. Be better in the morning."

"I'll have some food sent up."

And Loki would leave the plate outside once he'd eaten like he didn't want to be disturbed again.

Then it was just a case of sneaking out of the palace, flitting from column to column and shadow to shadow, his heart pounding.

There were so many things that might go wrong.

It seemed to him like Yggdrasil sensed his anguish, the chimes somehow discordant, a faint scratching and creaking from within the very limbs. He found himself stroking branches as he passed them, like he was trying to soothe some great beast.

The weather was truly awful when he arrived. Asgard was close to flooding, torrents of rain and a howling gale. This was not the steady pattering of the day before but a deluge, like the sky itself was weeping uncontrollably.

Thor's doing? Those weather powers he mentioned? Possibly. Which suggested a bad outcome to familial discussions.

The city's streets had turned to rivers, the place almost deserted apart from a few children making games of floating twigs downstream, faces at windows watched the storm with trepidation.

And perhaps no wonder as the centre of it was unmistakably the palace, a purple-grey spiral of cloud crackling with lightning around its spire. Like the whole sky was bruised.

Even the usual guards at the palace gates were not as impressive as usual, their armour dripping wet, looking thoroughly miserable as Loki headed down a side street to avoid then, trying to look like he knew exactly where he was going but keeping the palace in clear sight.

And there it was. A flash of red being buffeted by the wind, a crimson standard flapping left and right. Just as he'd feared.

Loki stepped into a doorway and concentrated. He had worked on this spell all day. Invisibility. He could keep it up for only about a minute, but he just had to sneak past the guards and then he could let go. He could do that. And the constant sound of rain would help disguise his breathing.

The effort hurt. For so long, he had let his natural magical talent carry him. He hadn't worked at it, hadn't practised properly. Hadn't needed to. He was regretting that now as he braced against a wall and screwed his eyes up and pushed and pushed...

It was like being in a dream, opening his eyes to find no visible hands or body. The strangest of sensations but no time to look at it. Maybe one day he'd work at it and be able to move invisibly for long periods, but for now it was like holding his breath. He didn't have long.

Moving obliquely, he kept his feet fast and light, trying to avoid leaving any patch of ground too dry for two long or stepping in any deeper puddles that would make his steps obvious. He skirted round the guards, holding his breath for real as he moved behind them through the thinnest gap between their backs and the open gate.

He could hear nothing but his own heart, like he'd been sprinting hard for too long, a faint burning in his ears from the strain of the magic.

At least he found a slightly sheltered spot to slump against a golden wall and let go, breathing hard, great gulps of damp air.

Familiar blue hands swam back into view in front of him.

Blue? No, that wasn't right for here. He had to... He had to change, he had to disguise himself.

Why couldn't he...?

Oh, no...

Shit.


	32. Chapter 32

So much for looking like a guard. He didn't even have enough energy to look Asgardian at all, let alone anything else.

Right, right, keep calm. Strategy. There was a ball going on - that meant visitors and newcomers and hustle and bustle. Comings and goings.

He crept away from the entrance, hood up and sleeves down, covering himself as much as possible. Alternative ways in... Couldn't scale the walls, certainly not in this rain. What other options were there?

Kitchen? There'd be a lot of food. He could hide behind something maybe?

Or in something?

Well, barrels were out of the question - he didn't want the bruises of being rolled and there was no way he was going to meet Thor smelling of whatever they drank here.

He stood flat against the wall when he heard voices, trying to make out if they were guards or passers-by or servants or what.

"This is him, you know," one voice said. "He's dangerous. They should never have brought him back. No self-control and no wonder, living there so long."

"Something must have set him off," a different one, less certain. "He was hurt yesterday."

"And fixed today, so I hear. He was nervous this morning, they say, and now there's this... I'm just saying, I never liked him. Maybe Hela is right. Maybe the Frost Giants did send him here to destroy us."

"Be careful saying things like that. You'll have Heimdall down on us."

Hmm. More evidence that Hela had no love for her new brother. This was practically a rescue mission.

The voices were moving away, and Loki felt safe enough to cautiously follow. Perhaps there was a door?

Ah, kitchens. As he'd expected, the unmistakable scents of cooking, steam billowing out into the air. It had to be utterly sweltering in there.

One more attempt to change his skin failed. He had truly spent himself, trapped himself here. So there was nowhere to go but forward.

Perhaps the steam would be thick enough to hide him?

A quick peek. No, not enough by the looks of it. Though there was what seemed to be a sack of flour near the door... Close enough that he could pinch it, in fact.

Oh, this was going to be so undignified, but at least he'd not be quite so obviously blue.

His hands were suitably covered and perhaps his face; he couldn't tell. The shade was not anything like Thor's complexion or even Hela's paler skin, and besides there was nothing he could do about his eyes. Still, it changed him enough that he didn't scream Jotun.

Time to hide in plain sight, or beat a hasty retreat.

He strolled in like he was meant to be there, carefully keeping his eyes down as best he could.

"Excuse me," he said, flattening his vowels, trying to sound unlike himself. "I'm supposed to be part of the entertainment this evening, but I took a wrong turn and now I simply cannot find my way back inside..."

They were busy. He was not a threat. They barely glanced at him.

"Go through the door at the back there and you'll be in the servants' stairs. Third floor, follow the noise and you'll find the musicians. They'll see you right."

He bowed deeply, theatrically, stunned that this was actually working. He'd got in. Now he just needed to find what he was looking for.

No guards on these stairs, but no sense of orientation either. Loki headed upwards. Thor's chambers had definitely been up, several floors. But which way?

It all looked the same!

He started listening at doors, trying to find somewhere quiet that he could sneak into to try to get his bearings, flitting ever upwards, trying to guess which side of the palace he was even on.

He'd been going towards Thor's cape and then through the kitchens and so... He was perpendicular to it now?

There weren't even windows to look out to try to judge.

Even if Thor had drawn him a map, it wouldn't have helped. He probably didn't even know this corridor existed.

Loki became aware of company gradually. A faint prickling at the back of his neck. A sense of not being alone.

Like a child, he didn't want to look behind him, as though if he didn't look, it wouldn't be so. But that was definitely the sound of a footstep, and not the purposeful movements of someone with a job to do.

It was the careful, measured steps of a hunter.

Nowhere to hide. Could he run? Maybe.

But his slight pause had been noted.

"Please, carry on," a low voice said behind him. "I'm curious to see how far you'll get, Prince Loki."

_Shit..._

Raising his hands, demonstrating that he was not armed, Loki turned carefully, meeting strange golden eyes and an amused expression. This man was armoured, but not in the same way as the other guards.

Was this the famous watcher?

"If you have any loyalty to Prince Thor," Loki said, swallowing hard. "You'll take me to him."

Narrowed eyes, head tilted to the side.

"My loyalty is to Asgard."

Right, then.

Loki kicked him in the chest, not hard enough for him to fall, but enough to stagger him and turned to run. No more hiding. He was already seen; his only hope was to stay one step ahead.

Bounding out of the servants' stairs, he sprinted down corridors without a clue where he was going.

He'd never find Thor at this rate. It would be far more likely for Thor to find him.

Time to start shouting.


	33. Chapter 33

"Thor!" he yelled. "Thor!"

People's faces appeared round corners, confused and frightened, staring at this strange man who was daring to call for their prince without even a title.

"Which way?" he asked them. "Which way?"

Did he really expect a response? He kept moving, choosing his directions at random and always calling, calling.

Why were palaces so big?! How were you supposed to find anyone?

A figure emerged opposite him as he burst through yet another door, the two of them separated by an open space surrounded by landings.

A figure he knew.

But not Thor.

Fear lanced through his body as he recognised Thor's sister even without her armour, her eyes going wide at the sight of him.

And then she laughed.

"Oh, I knew it," she said. "I knew it... That little snake."

She turned away for a moment, arm outstretched, a strange humming sound echoing around before a huge, silver hammer flew to her grasp.

Loki had frozen, prey before predator, ears ringing with panic as the door behind him opened and the gatekeeper's hand appeared beside him.

"Princess," he said, very low. "Consider your actions. This is Jotunheim's crown prince."

"This is clear evidence that my so-called brother is a traitor. He's found a way to sneak them in. Stand aside and allow me to defend our realm."

"Hela..."

"I command you to move!"

There was a horrible pause, a second that seemed to last a lifetime, Hela's eyes narrowing as she subtly adjusted her stance and drew her arm back.

The hammer flew, not end over end like he would have expected, but straight and true and right towards his face.

Loki found himself grabbed, pulled to the side and down, wincing as he expected impact above him, or for it to change direction and strike him dead...

The impact did not come.

Was he dead, then? Was that it?

Shaking, Loki opened his eyes, staring at where the hammer had stopped in the air, frozen almost, as if time itself had stopped.

And then it swung sideways and into Thor's hand where he'd emerged to Loki's right.

Was that Thor? It looked like him, certainly, but the eyes... Loki had never seen him look like that before, full of rage and fury, his nostrils flared with it.

And Hela roared, flinging her arm forward first, the hammer jerking in Thor's grasp as she tried to summon it back to no avail.

And then she started throwing knives.

Thor struck one out of the air almost by reflex - or had the hammer moved of its own accord? - but he surely couldn't handle them all.

"Start running," he called. "I'll be right behind you. Straight through the doors and to the balcony."

A balcony? What?

"Go!"

The clank of metal on metal kept ringing out, the gatekeeper standing to assist while Loki crawled and then sprinted, hoping against hope that Thor knew what he was doing.

The storm was still at its height, fed by Thor's anger, rinsing his flour disguise from his skin more or less and making his hair fly around wildly.

He should go back and help. He should...

He tried to summon an ice blade and got little more than a sliver.

A loud bang, doors being slammed open, and Thor barreled towards him.

"Hold on to me."

"What?"

But he'd already done it, wrapped his arms around Thor's neck and clung on for dear life as his feet left the ground and suddenly there was only air.

Eventually he might be able to speak, but not just yet.

He could only stare as the palace disappeared beneath them and they entered into the storm itself, being blown in circles, surrounded by grey.

"This is ridiculous," Thor shouted over the rushing wind. "Heimdall will find us..."

"Not where we're going," Loki yelled. "There's a forest just outside the city. Head there. Trust me."

Spinning the hammer in his grasp, they burst out of the clouds, soaring above houses and streets, those very same children Loki had seen before looking up at them and pointing in disbelief.

Soon there would be guards and yelling, but for now he even dared to wave, to laugh and enjoy the trip.

Thor moved lower over the trees, waiting for Loki to tell him where to land, stumbling a little when his feet touched the ground but putting Loki down carefully, with no more than some tight squeezing.

"Alright," he said. "I trust you. What now?"

Loki reached out and took him by the hand, leading him into the undergrowth...

Would he have the strength to work the spell to open the barrier?

He didn't need to worry. The merest brush of his fingers and Yggdrasil revealed itself, faint chimes already ringing in welcome.

"What _is_ that?" Thor asked.

"A safe place. Come on."


	34. Chapter 34

Loki felt a weight lift from him, mental and physical. Time moved differently here. They would have space to breathe, to plan.

He turned, thinking to pull Thor into a much-needed embrace to find him looking pale. Even paler than usual.

"I feel very strange," he murmured.

Ah. Of course. It was quite an adjustment the first time.

"Come here," Loki said, reaching out to him. "It's alright."

"They'll be coming for us."

"Come here."

He took Thor's hand again, gently leading him towards the trunk.

"We are outside of time," he said. "Or something like that anyway. I'm not fully certain of the details. But it moves slower. We can plan our next move."

Thor's steps were shaky, unsure, but following him all the same, trusting that he knew what he was talking about.

"Why were you covered in flour?" he asked. "Why not just change your skin?"

That seemed such a long time ago, though it could only have been minutes.

"I learned to turn invisible to sneak past the guards, but I'm afraid it rather wore me out. I couldn't do any magic at all suddenly. It was the best I could do for a disguise at short notice. I'm astonished it worked, to be quite honest."

Thor chuckled slightly, but he was wincing a little too.

"You're hurt," Loki said, slightly accusing.

"She grazed me. It's nothing."

"Let me see."

The moment they were on a sufficiently wide limb, he made Thor sit down and knelt beside him, unbuckling his leather breastplate.

It was a superficial wound, but he was still bleeding. The blade had slipped in the small gap at the bottom of his armour, slashing the flesh above his hip bone.

Of course, Loki had to completely strip him to the waist to see that, the sluggish pulse of his blood staining his hands and the world tree too. If Loki wasn't imagining things, the chimes grew decidedly more melancholy, as though Yggdrasil confused by this pain in its midst.

"Tell the tree you're alright."

"What? Why?"

"Can you not hear that? It's upset."

Thor looked at him strangely, but gently stroked the branch he was sitting on all the same.

"You more in tune with these things than I am," he said. "But alright. Don't worry, tree. I'll be fine."

It was grumpy until Loki used his damp hooded overwear as a makeshift bandage, wrapping his arms right around Thor's torso, feeling the heat of his skin, heart pounding at being so close.

"So what now?" Thor asked. "Time is slowed, but we can't hide in here forever."

"We go to Jotunheim," Loki said firmly.

"That will be the first place they'll look."

"I know. I don't intend to hide. We'll claim shelter. Your parents are forcing you into a marriage that you do not want, and your sister wishes you grave bodily harm. You are not safe there."

Thor looked baleful, sighing heavily.

"I'm just scared that they'll separate us again," he said quietly. "And I thought I was coping, but seeing you yesterday... It shocked me, just how empty I'd been feeling. I don't think I can go back to that."

Loki knew exactly what he meant. He'd filled the hole in his heart with bitterness and then with this ridiculous scheme to come and visit.

"Jotunheim is our best bet," he said insistently. "I am heir to the throne. My father has more to lose if I do not return. And he cares for you, in his way. He'll defend you."

"I don't doubt that, but I also fear that my sister will spin this as an act of aggression somehow. She'll want war."

He looked so sad, so lost that Loki couldn't help but touch him, trying to ground him in the moment.

"We will get through this," he said firmly.

"We'll try, at least," Thor said.

That was not nearly as optimistic a response as Loki had hoped for or expected. What had they been doing to him? Where was cheerful Thor?

He seized Thor's face, trying to force some sense into him, resting their foreheads together.

The kissing was not wholly unanticipated, but not certain either, Thor surging forward to meet him, as though trying to show that he did believe, he did have faith really...

Somewhere along the way, he started touching Thor's flesh with more purpose, his own body singing, feeling that heat and strength as Thor pulled him into his lap, holding him close.

"We don't... We don't have time for this."

"I know."

Despite saying it out loud, neither of them made any effort to stop. Perhaps it was what was left unsaid, the sense that circumstances might change, that something might go wrong, that had Loki trying to undo their clothes just enough.

"Are you sure?" Thor said, his voice barely more than a breath for all Loki could feel his growing arousal.

"Yes."

It hurt at first. He couldn't deny that, eyes prickling with tears and gasping, sharp, clinging to Thor's back with his face buried in his shoulder.

A strange kind of hurt though. It grounded him, and made him all the more aware of the softness of Thor's touch, the gentle, comforting murmurs in his ears.

And eventually he tried moving.

Thor let out a half cry, like he was trying to hold back, his hips jerking upwards to meet Loki's, rolling with him.

And then the hurt gave way to something else.


	35. Chapter 35

The first moan was almost a yelp. Later, he'd be thoroughly embarrassed by it, but in the moment there was only the feeling of goodness, fullness and Thor's worried face, the same as it had ever been but a different shade and contrasting with Loki's own hands as he held and touched and promised that it was alright, it was good in fact.

His cock was finding friction against the heat of Thor's stomach, not nearly enough, but some.

"You're crying," Thor said, voice full of fear.

"Just... Ah! Just overwhelmed, but it's good."

He laid kisses across Thor's skin as best he could when all he really wanted to do was hide his face and be gloriously selfish, chase his own pleasure and maybe drag Thor along too, maybe.

But he didn't have to. As had so often happened, Thor was thinking of him, taking care of him, kissing his neck as he forced a hand between their bodies and found where Loki's cock was leaking again his stomach.

His very touch seemed electric, like his lightning powers were manifesting even here, clumsy strokes sending shocks through Loki's core and making him jerk and gasp.

There was need in him, stronger than anything he'd ever felt before, like he might burst if Thor slowed or - norns forbid - stopped, catching himself holding his breath and then having to gasp for air, his motions growing frenzied as Thor grinned at him, matching his enthusiasm.

Climax rolled across him like a wave, starting small but growing ever larger, muscles tensing throughout his whole body, falling against Thor with a sigh and getting a chuckle in return.

"Good?"

"Mmm..."

Something wasn't right though.

"You haven't..." Loki began. "You're not done."

A half shrug.

"Trying not to spill inside you. I'll sort myself out."

"No, let me."

For one thing, it gave him a chance to actually see Thor's new anatomy. Prove that it was alright, that he wasn't put off by it.

Norns, how had he ever got that inside? Thor's shaft was thicker than he remembered, slick from him - and wasn't that thrilling? - and flanked by... Oh, he'd learned the word for those. Testicles, that was it. Like icicles, hanging down.

Thor was nervous, he could tell. Worried about his appraisal of him, worried that he wouldn't like it. Well, they couldn't have that...

"You are so beautiful," Loki said, wrapping his hand around Thor's cock and beginning to stroke, long, full passes. "I can't wait until we can do this properly and I get to see every part of you."

Thor smiled at him, biting his lip.

"I don't have much more to show," he said, a hint of moaning in his voice. "Just my knees really."

"The things I'll do to those knees..."

They were laughing together, so like old times and yet so different as Thor's already heavy breathing grew more rapid, his cock twitching in Loki's grasp, his peak coming with a soft cry, almost a grunt.

This had been immensely foolhardy, but Loki knew he wouldn't regret it. Ever.

"I doubt many people can say they've spilled on Yggdrasil," he said.

"Is it angry with us?"

Loki listened. The chimes were hushed. Almost reverent. Gentle and soft.

"No," he said eventually. "I think it's... happy?"

"Enjoyed the show?" Thor asked, tucking himself away.

"No, more like happy for us. Like an old person seeing young love."

"Well, if we're blessed by the world tree itself, I challenge anyone to stand in our way."

That was much more like the Thor he knew.

They got dressed. No sense in delaying the inevitable. Loki wished his magic would replenish faster so he could at least try putting a warming spell onto Thor, but it couldn't be helped.

"We'll come out in the grounds," he said as they carefully clambered from branch to branch. "It's not too far back to the palace. We'll hurry and get you out of the cold as quickly as possible."

Thor nodded grimly. He seemed determined now, resolute. Loki took strength from that. His pessimism seemed to have been well and truly banished for now.

He pulled Loki back from the gateway to Jotunheim, holding him for a moment longer.

"I love you," he said softly.

Loki didn't feel he had to say it in return. He just kissed Thor once more and took his hand to lead him back home.

And into a world of trouble.


	36. Part Six - Thor

The cold bit into Thor's flesh like a starving beast, sudden and terrible, taking his breath before it could even steam in the air before him.

And then a huge blanket was thrown over him. That was odd. How had that happened?

"What in all the nine are you playing at?" Laufey hissed. "Prince Thor of Asgard, last seen fleeing the palace in the company of a Jotun runt? I thought I was dreaming or mistaken. It couldn't possibly be my Loki out there alone. And what do I find when I check on him? Not so much as a pillow beneath the blankets."

"You knew about the passageway to Yggdrasil," Loki said, which Thor really didn't think was the point right now.

"Of course I knew," Laufey said, steering them firmly towards the palace. "I am king. I know a lot of things about this land that you do not need to know yet. Otherwise, you'd do things like this."

Well, it couldn't be claimed that he didn't know his son.

"I had to do it," Loki said stubbornly. "He's not safe there."

"And how did you learn this, may I ask? There has been no correspondence between our realms these past months."

Ah. Of course. Loki had had to go to Asgard without permission first to learn of the whole messy situation with Hela and with Sannheta.

Maybe that was why he was suddenly suspiciously quiet.

Laufey sighed slightly.

"Let's get inside, get a warmth enchantment laid and then Thor can tell me all about it."

It was a relief to have that huge blue hand placed on his forehead and feel the chill melt away. Like he could breathe again suddenly.

"He's hurt," Loki said pointedly. "Stabbed by his sister."

"She didn't stab me," Thor said. "She wasn't close enough for that. She threw a knife at me."

"Yes, because that makes all the difference!"

It felt strange enough for Thor to be back in familiar surroundings with everything so much bigger than him, let alone to be given yet more medicine to drink, so different to what Asgard used.

He hoped any remaining traces of their earlier activities were going unnoticed...

Laufey sat at his desk while Thor was healed properly, fingers steepled, looking tired and worn ultimately very disappointed.

"Right," he said. "So your sister wants you dead. Is that the angle you're working from?"

Loki opened his mouth to reply but was waved into silence.

Thor hesitated for a moment.

"She believes that I'm a spy sent by you to undermine Asgard. And she is very hostile towards me. I was injured yesterday and some say it was her doing. But the main reason I wished to leave was that my parents are pushing me towards a marriage which I do not want."

Laufey's expression had not changed, but he let out a tiny sigh.

"Unfortunately, that is often the fate of royalty," he said. "And always has been. I realise you two have some kind of... romantic dream, but you must realise it is simply not possible."

"Why not?" Loki asked. "Why is it so impossible?"

"Odin would never agree."

"He might!"

"Loki, you are lucky I haven't sent you to your room for the next century for this. Sneaking into other realms with no protection? Climbing Yggdrasil? You could have been injured or killed or abducted and we would have had no idea where you were or why. Staggeringly irresponsible and stupid. You're a prince, you can't just do as you please. And neither can you, Thor."

Why not? That was the one thing he didn't understand. Why couldn't they be together?

"I love your son," he said quietly. "I've loved him so long. And I always knew that loving him was a hopeless dream, that he was so elevated above me that it could never be. And now we are both princes and yet..."

He stopped, closing his eyes, trying to get his head in order.

"I dreamed of having parents too. And that they would love me. And they do, I think. It's difficult. But I had always thought they would want me to be happy. I thought that was what parents wanted for their children. But perhaps I was wrong."

Silence fell, a long pause, Laufey's scarlet eyes boring into him.

"It's not easy being a parent either," he said eventually. "You have so much love suddenly for this new being. And you have hopes and dreams for your child. But they are their own person. You cannot control them. You can only do your best to guide them. And if it was only my blessing you needed, I would give it in a heartbeat, but it's not. And it's not Odin's or Frigga's either. It's the people. A millennia of prejudice and hatred and war does not go away overnight just because two people fall in love. If it did, perhaps the universe would be a much happier place."

Thor tried to absorb what he was being told.

"You think the people wouldn't accept me."

"I fear they would see this as Asgard conquering Jotunheim through stealth. And the Asgardians would see it as their kidnapped prince being stolen once more."

Loki huffed and folded his arms.

"That's ridiculous. Our people know Thor. He's one of us."

Unexpected hurt gave Thor's heart a glancing blow. That wasn't right.

"But I'm not, Loki," he said, turning to him. "And I'm not Asgardian either. I don't know their culture or their ways. I'm something... in between."

Loki looked down, shy suddenly.

"We could change you back. If you wanted."

A few months ago, Thor might have jumped at that chance, but now...

"Would you be happier if I changed back?" he asked.

"No! Unless it was what you wanted. I just want you to be happy."

"It would be a lie," Thor said. "And I am tired of lies."

"You're still talking like this relationship has any hope of being accepted," Laufey said.

Was that really all that was standing in their way? The people's opinion?

"We could always ask them," he said.

Laufey stared at him like he'd just suggested invading Muspelheim.

And as he opened his mouth to respond, someone knocked at the door.


	37. Chapter 37

A guard entered, looking thoroughly shaken and confused. They were beyond training here.

"Your Majesty, a delegation from Asgard has arrived. They demand the return of Prince Thor."

He was going to speak for himself, Thor decided. Sort out his own problems.

"I am here of my own volition," he said. "And I am not going back until they listen to me. I want to marry Prince Loki of Jotunheim."

The guard blinked at him a few times.

"Er... No, I believe they want to arrest you for bringing an unauthorised person into the palace. My lord."

The title was definitely tacked on, but Thor really didn't care. Arrest him? That was rich.

Loki still had his arms folded, the very picture of stubbornness.

"He's not going. I acted alone in going to Asgard. He committed no crime."

"Loki, we are not going to harbour a fugitive," Laufey said. "Peace is more important."

"We are trying to maintain the peace! We are trying to form an alliance."

Thor had realised something. He wasn't just tired of lies. He was tired of all of it. Of pretending to be happy, of being treated like an idiot, of being something to trade away to the elves or the Vanir or whoever would provide the best deal for him.

He jumped down from his chair, feeling reckless and exhausted.

"I will speak to them," he said.

He hadn't even got to the door before Loki joined him, taking his hand.

"Not alone," he said. "Together."

Thor squeezed his hand gratefully and tried to look more confident than he felt.

They strode into the great hall side by side, as they had done thousands of times before, and hand in hand, as they never had. The whole Asgardian royal family stood before them, wrapped up in multiple layers of clothing, Sannheta with them and even Heimdall. 

If anyone wanted to invade the realm eternal, now would be the time.

Hela pointed an accusative finger at them.

"You see, Father?" she said. "He's in league with the intruder. He must be a spy."

Heimdall rolled his eyes, an unusual thing to watch. It was like seeing galaxies spiral.

"It is my humble opinion, Majesties, that Thor was unaware of Prince Loki's visits to Asgard until fairly late. And, as I've already mentioned, it was Hela's attack forced him to retreat."

"Please don't talk about me like I'm not here," Thor said, using the echo of the enormous room to his advantage. "I have returned to Jotunheim out of desperation."

Odin sighed.

"Thor, we talked about this. The elves returned you to us. We are in their debt. Marriage is a good way to form an alliance."

"Yes, Father. I am aware of that. But while I might admire Sannheta greatly, I love another. I love Loki Laufeyson of Jotunheim. And as such, I respectfully ask your permission to pursue his hand."

He was only barely holding things together. His hands were shaking, the remaining aches in his knees twinging.

"I... I see," Odin said, as though he was having trouble processing such a request. "But the elves expect a match, love or not."

Thor's heart sank. He felt tears prickle in his eyes, imagining a long life of empty marriage. And worse, he would grow to resent Sannheta, maybe even to hate her and that was not fair, it wasn't her fault...

"Um..." Balder said, raising his hand. "I could marry her."

Thor stared at his little brother, eyes wide.

"I can't ask you to do that for me," he said.

"No, we... We talked a lot at the banquet since Thor was hurt and... Well, we got on quite well, I think."

He was blushing. He... liked her, it seemed. Was it reciprocated? It seemed everyone was looking at her with varying emotions. Hope from Balder, curiosity from Frigga, shock from Odin and open hostility from Hela.

"Your musical knowledge is fascinating," Sannheta said, eyes down. "And I found you good conversation. We have a lot in common. But regardless of how good a match it might be, my parents will demand the second in line to the throne."

Hopes raised and then dashed. Thor wasn't sure if his heart could take it.

"If Thor were to marry Loki," Frigga said carefully. "He would become consort of Jotunheim and give up his claim to the Asgardian throne."

Loki's eyes lit up.

"Is that true?" he asked, like he didn't dare believe it.

"Well, I don't see why not. I gave up my rights to my ancestral seat when I married Odin."

Thor looked at his father, hoping against hope, watching his mouth move as he considered the matter.

"Do you truly love one another?" he asked.

"Yes," Thor said, just as Loki said it too, the pair of them catching each other's eye and unable to hold back a smile.

Odin let out a faint harrumph and gestured into the air.

"Then I suppose we ought to reconvene and discuss this matter properly. Alfheim too. I promise nothing, but if all parties are happy with the arrangement then I see no reason to stand in their way. Laufey, what say you?"

Loki's father had entered without Thor realising, standing quietly behind them.

"I say that our sons are stubborn, spoiled brats," he said. "But... they do seem to make one another happy. I know that Thor will treat Loki with love and respect and I know he will not neglect his duties. But I fear the people's reaction. Will they accept such a union?"

Everyone seemed to pause except Frigga, who laughed merrily.

"You're forgetting something," she said.

"And what's that?"

"The people love love."


	38. Chapter 38

They made him leave Loki. Again. And even knowing that they would be reunited in a matter of days did not make it any easier for Thor to say goodbye.

"He'll be going back to Jotunheim permanently if this works out, will he?" Hela asked as they headed back to the Bifrost site, a trusted Einjarhar standing by in the observatory to operate it.

"He'll have to," Frigga said. "But I'll be organising regular visits on both sides."

"No more spying and no more vying for the throne... I might be more in favour of this match than I thought."

Thor knew it wasn't worth arguing that he wasn't a spy and he didn't want the throne anyway. Let her think whatever she wanted, as long as she wasn't trying to kill him.

It was worth it to see her face when he handed Mjölnir back, though if he wasn't mistaken, she seemed to be having more difficulty holding it than usual.

He still wasn't used to the Bifrost, stumbling as they landed. It was just so blunt as a means of travel, was all. Like getting picked up and then dropped.

"Is the ball still on?" Balder asked.

"Of course," Odin said. "We couldn't cancel it, certainly not at such short notice. People love it too much."

He nodded vaguely and turned to Sannheta.

"Would you... care to dance?" he asked.

Maybe Thor was a little surprised by how quickly she took his hand, but then again maybe not. Balder was sweet, clever. Everyone loved him. He'd make a thoughtful and considerate partner.

"I... I'd rather not go, if I can be excused," Thor said.

Odin looked a little perturbed, but Frigga waved him off.

"It's been a stressful few days. You and I should take some tea and be calm."

Her tone suggested no objections would be entertained and Thor was grateful for it, Heimdall giving his shoulder a brief squeeze before resuming his post.

After all the excitement of the flight from Asgard and the passion among Yggdrasil's branches, Thor felt himself deflate a little, exhausted, grateful for a moment of peace and tranquility in Frigga's sitting room. The scent of the tea swirled around them, earthy and reassuring.

"Why didn't you tell us you were in love?" Frigga asked gently, stirring the pot and letting it brew.

"Because I didn't believe my feelings were reciprocated. I thought Loki was disgusted with me being... how I am now. And I didn't think my feelings would matter."

She looked at him very sadly.

"I'm sorry to hear that. And, of course, I'm sorry that you want to leave us."

"Oh," Thor said, feeling his heart drop a little. "Oh, I don't. It's not that I want to leave you..."

"It's that you want to be with him. I understand."

And maybe she actually did.

"I doubt Hela will be too upset to see the back of me," Thor said, wondering if he should share his concerns about her. He had no proof, of course, but...

"Is this about her attempts on your life?"

Thor stared, certain he must have misheard.

"You knew about that?"

"Oh, she does it will all new people. She tried to kill me when I first married your father. Tried to kill Balder when he was born. But she's really not very difficult to thwart. Very good on the battlefield and very good at violence, but less good at actual assassination. She's too fond of blood, you see. Weapons and blades. She'd never think of something sneaky like poison."

She poured him a cup of tea, pushing it lightly across the table.

"She shattered my knees," Thor said, staring into the murky liquid.

"Mm. Yes. We rather dropped the ball on that one, I'm afraid. Should really have seen it coming. But that's the thing with making a good job of preventing murder; it's only the slip-ups that get remembered."

What was she saying?

"You... saved my life?" he said. "You protected me from Hela?"

"Five or six times total, I think. She'll have got it out of her system now. Don't worry about it."

But Thor would worry. Of course he would.

"Surely you can't mean to let her inherit when she's so dangerous," he said. "She'll start wars. Kill people."

"Well... We're cautiously optimistic that she'll grow out of it."

It took Thor a long time to realise she was teasing him.

"What's the real plan?" he asked. "It's not like she'll abdicate willingly."

"No, indeed. But it is not the first time that a realm weathered a monarch who was less than ideal."

"So what will they do?"

"Well, the council will do their best to avoid the worst impulses. And Heimdall enjoys a good treasonous act, as long as its in service to Asgard. They'll keep her right. And besides, she is really is calming down as she matures. You should have seen her three centuries ago..."

Thor pondered how to vocalise his next thought cautiously, without giving offence.

"I can't help wondering how wise it is, that's all."

"Ah, yes. Wisdom. You're quite right, of course, but you'll learn when you're consort of Jotunheim that often wisdom is the last thing rulers will turn to. They're much fonder of, say, adopting their enemy's child or burying incredibly dangerous objects where anyone could stumble upon them by digging in the wrong place. You'll get used to it. Now, about Jotunheim. How are you planning to keep warm?"

The change of subject was sudden, rattling him a little.

"Uh... Well, wrapping up carefully. And Laufey put a spell on me this time which helped."

"Would you like to learn how to do that yourself?"

Was that even possible? He had no idea.

"I thought it was just... That my powers could only affect storms."

"But that magic lives within you. And lightning tends to be fairly warm. It may take some time to twist and temper it to what you want, but you're a quick study."

Being independent. Not having to rely on Loki or Laufey to get him through the day. It appealed rather a lot.

"How difficult is it?" he asked.

"It will be tiring at first, but magic is like a muscle. Work at it and it will get easier. Eventually, you won't even have to think about it."

That did sound good. Very good.

"I'd like that very much," he said. "Thank you."

"And while we're on the subject, we should really talk about family planning."

Thor only just managed not to spray tea across the room.


	39. Chapter 39

The first hurdle of sorting out all this betrothal nonsense was choosing where to do it. Odin wanted everyone to come to them since they had the most people involved, and Laufey wanted everyone to go to Jotunheim since he would have difficulty with doors and furniture and the elves wanted to host because they claimed they were neutral.

Thor didn't much care where it happened so long as it did. He was ready to fight his corner.

"What kind of thing am I going to be facing?" he asked Frigga during a breather in magic lessons. "What arguments should I prepare for?"

She thought about it for a while.

"Well, I believe we are in agreement with Laufey. The two of you have made your feelings quite clear, and although he has some strange ideas about objections from the populous, he ultimately wants Loki to be happy. The elves will be the problem, potentially. They rather had their eye on you and they feel entitled since they were the ones who found you, revealed your true identity."

"I think Sannheta likes Balder though. Genuinely. They have more in common than she and I do anyway."

He carefully did not imply that his brother's impending leap up the line of succession suddenly made him rather more attractive.

"Shall we go to Alfheim then?" he asked. "If it will make them happy and more inclined to listen."

"Perhaps. Your father won't like it much. He loves a bit of pageantry. He was looking forward to showing off the palace."

"We can always make a grand entrance."

That seemed to pass muster. It was capes and ceremonial armour all the way.

Hela did not like the fact she was being shut out of proceedings at all, though.

"I am heir, in case you forgot," she said, bristling at a rare breakfast appearance. "I should be there to discuss matters."

"You are not queen yet," Odin said sharply. "This is Thor's future and Balder's, theirs alone. Much as they would not expect to have a say in your marriage, theirs are their business."

She sneered at him, furious.

"I'd say that my two little brothers marrying those well-placed to mount an attempt at usurping me was my business."

Thor was tempted to mention that if he was kept from Loki a second longer than necessary, he'd start considering assassination on the spot.

Odin would not be bullied, fortunately, and she reluctantly agreed to remain at home, keeping the realm running.

Thor was over excited and he knew it. It was lucky he didn't have to decide what to wear or he'd never manage to decide. Doing his hair was bad enough, wishing there were Jotun styles he could adopt, making his intention clear.

Balder seemed to be having something of a similar dilemma though. He arrived in Thor's chambers in the morning with his hair damply plastered to his head, looking very nervous.

"Does this look alright?" he asked.

"Um..." Thor began. "It's a little... severe."

He carefully fluffed it up just slightly, stopping his head from looking quite so much like an egg.

"I just want to look nice," Balder said wretchedly. "I mean, she's so glamorous. She should marry someone who matches her."

"Looks fade," Thor said, unexpectedly in the role of advisor. "But you match in other ways. In your natures and your passions."

He wasn't actually sure if Sannheta liked music as much as she said she did, but that was neither here nor there.

"It's alright for you," Balder said, maybe a little bitterly. "Looking all... like you do."

"Well, soon enough we'll both look like Father, but you'll always be cleverer than me."

Balder gave him a little smile and then they set off towards the Bifrost together. Thor hoped they'd remain close through the years. He liked having a brother, even if they hadn't grown up together.

The lush greenery of Alfheim was as beautiful as ever, the palace impressive with its vaulted ceilings and stunning stained glass, but Thor wasn't paying attention to any of that because Loki was there.

Laufey was perched upon a high stool with far more dignity than ought to have been possible, Loki by his side looking very nervous. He jumped down when the Asgardian contingent arrived, but then seemed to stop, worried about propriety no doubt.

Thor had no such concerns. He strode purposefully across the room, letting his cape billow behind him, taking Loki's hand and accompanying him back to his chair. No nerves. Certainty.

He had just taken his own seat in time to see Balder awkwardly bowing to Sannheta and clearly asking permission to sit by her. Their relationship was so different, at such an early stage. It was sweet to see them together as she nodded in recognition and placed her hand delicately in his.

The poor thing went very pink suddenly, but smiling with it.

Thor had met the elf king, of course. In passing though. He had been Loki's entourage, just another noble that should be noted and then forgotten.

"So," he said, sitting at the head of the table. "Jotunheim wants to steal the first son of Odin a second time, hmm?"

Well, that was one way of putting it.

"The first son of Odin respectfully begs permission to marry his beloved," Thor said.

"And, of course, we do not mean to leave Sannheta lonely, as it were," Frigga said. "Our second son, Balder, requests her hand."

They were all regarded, a penetrating stare.

"And are the princes of Asgard so easily exchanged? Have they no merits of their own?"

Oh, for norns' sake...

"Balder is conscientious and will make your daughter happy in a way I fear I never could," Thor said. "My heart belongs to another."

Loki took his hand again, saying nothing but broadcasting their unity all the same.

Privately, Thor rather thought the elves were angling for something. Some sweetener to the arrangement.

"Thor will, of course, drop below Balder as he becomes second in line to the throne," Odin said solemnly. "Sannheta will lose nothing by way of power or influence. Neither will Jotunheim gain power over Asgard, except in the event of a terrible disaster."

"Likewise, Asgard will gain no power over Jotunheim," Laufey said pointedly.

Ah, yes. The Jotun concerns of an amicable takeover. He clearly wanted that firmly clarified.

"Thor will adhere to the laws of your realm regarding consorts."

It was not common to see Laufey hesitate, but hesitate he did.

"Well, we have none. Oddly enough, we rarely get involved with those of... smaller stature. This is rather a unique case. I seek reassurance that we are all operating under the same understanding, that is all. Otherwise... Thor is an acceptable spouse for my child."

Never before had the word "acceptable" seemed more complimentary.

"Balder," Frigga said kindly. "Would you like to recommend yourself to Sannheta's father since you have not had the privilege to meet before?"

She might as well have asked if he wanted to leap a chasm of flames from the way his face drained of colour. Thor did his best to send him courage down the table as he stood up, clearing his throat.

"I, er... Um... I really like your daughter."

Ah. They should probably have warned him to prepare something in advance.


	40. Chapter 40

Sannheta reached over and squeezed Balder's hand lightly, turning him from deathly pale to beetroot in a matter of moments.

"I am practical, Father," she said. "As you know. My revelation of Thor Odinson's true form was not calculated upon an assumption of marriage."

Thor severely doubted that, but no matter. She was fighting for him all the same.

"If I was to choose a spouse, I would want one who liked me, not one who would be made miserable by my very presence. It is your decision, of course, but I am more than willing to enter an engagement with Balder of Asgard."

Thor marveled at her composure. Then again, he had grown up with Loki who thought nothing of crossing whole worlds and risking life, limb and position to be with the person he loved. She was a politician above all else. Maybe she just knew all the right words to say.

He watched anxiously as the king seemed to consider the matter, his brown eyes that were so like hers looking aside as he absorbed everything.

"I still dislike this," he said. "I entered into marriage negotiations for Prince Thor in good faith and while this arrangement may prove to be satisfactory in time, I do not appreciate last-minute changes."

"With all due respect," Loki said, his voice ringing clear from Thor's side. "There were exceptional circumstances."

The steady gaze was turned impassively upon them both.

"As far as I understand it, _you_ were the exceptional circumstance, Prince Loki. I have learned rather more about you than I think you realise. But we are agreed - Thor, second child of Odin, will wed Loki, crown prince of Jotunheim, while his brother Balder marries my fourth child, Sannheta."

He sat back, his piece finished, a brief silence falling over the room.

"So... So Thor can come home?" Loki asked.

It felt strange for Thor to even consider it. So much had changed, so much was different now. But he still wanted to be with Loki. That hadn't changed. He hoped it never would.

Frigga cleared her throat.

"We would like to have a celebration first, if we may," she said. "To see him off."

Yes. Yes, he'd like that, Thor decided. A proper send off. A time to bid Asgard farewell.

"Happy?" Balder asked when they were safely returned.

"Yes. I'll be sad to leave, of course, but... Well, I love him. Are you happy?"

"It could have gone worse. He was so intimidating! At least you'd met yours before."

"My what?"

"Your father in law."

Huh. Yes, that was probably what Laufey would be to him now. What a strange turn of events.

His last evening in Asgard was bittersweet. Frigga in particular seemed upset and maybe Odin too, in his way. He kept making speeches about new beginnings and happiness.

Thor got plenty of well wishes, a few tearful people asking him if he was really sure about this. Probably sad that he wouldn't be hearing their cases in court anymore.

Still, Balder had decided to step into his place. It would be even better since he actually knew what he was talking about with regards to local law.

Even Hela put in an appearance, though her attention had clearly moved from him to Sannheta. Maybe that even counted as her liking him, by her standards.

And that was it, somehow. Leaving his new home that he hadn't wanted in the first place, but also the people, the family that he'd gained. He had wanted them in his life. Still did.

"It's not forever," he said, almost more to himself than them, standing awkwardly in the observatory with the few possessions he'd managed to acquire in his time there.

"Of course not," Odin said. "We'll visit. And you will too."

Hugs. Tears. Some from Balder, even, though he was clearly trying not to let them flow. A clasped hand from Heimdall, a nod of recognition...

And then the rushing lights and colours of the Bifrost. He'd never get used to that, though at least he managed some dignity when he landed.

And, of course, Loki was there to meet him, a perfect blue pillar in the snow that became a fast-approaching blur.

"Come here," he said. "You'll need warming."

"No need," Thor said smiling, reaching within himself and turning lightning to heat. Yes, it was tiring, but he was getting better and better at it.

It chilled his hands, but apparently that effect would fade with time.

"You learned how to do it," Loki said, sounding shocked.

"So you can use your magic for more important things."

A laugh, bright and happy.

"As though there could be anything more important."

He led Thor into the castle, arm in arm, no longer hiding but proud, getting smiles from passers-by.

"I'm afraid we're going to be in the guest suite for a while," he said. "While our rooms are refurbished."

"Refurbished?"

"Well... Since we're free to be together, I thought having separate rooms was a bit silly, so I took the wall down."

Thor could already see where this was going.

"You took it down... personally?"

"Well, how was I to know it was load bearing? Anyway, it means we can completely redesign it just how we want."

Thor couldn't resist kissing him. There was something he loved there; that ability Loki had to see something go wrong and then pretend that had been his intention all along. It was a foil to his own stubbornness and optimism perhaps.

Which, of course, meant they were in the clinch, as it were, when Laufey put his head round the door.

"At least let him settle in first," he said, making them both jump.

Despite everything, despite knowing that they were engaged and this was just kissing and perfectly allowed, Thor felt himself turn pink as Laufey held out a hand to him.

"Welcome home, Prince Thor."


	41. Part Seven - Loki

Loki woke alone.

Hmm. That was not normal.

It was three weeks since their wedding. They'd put it off until their marital suite was ready, which had taken months, and then there'd been a great fuss because Thor didn't want anything big and Loki wanted to throw the biggest wedding Jotunheim had ever seen. They didn't happen often; it wouldn't be difficult.

They compromised in the end. A feast, with Thor's parents and brother. Hela was invited, but elected not to come. Something about keeping things ticking over in Asgard.

And it had all been very lovely and delightful and good to meet Thor's family in a more pleasant situation than previously and afterwards they had rather settled in to life together.

In a lot of ways, nothing had changed. They went about their duties together, they were each other's closest confidants. But now they knew they loved each other too as something other than dear friends.

It was nicer even than he'd imagined. Not thrilling all the time, but comfortable and sweet. Safe. Hard to describe.

The door opened quietly, like Thor was trying not to wake him, sneaking back into the room. Well, he wasn't going to get away with that...

"Where have you been?" Loki asked, stretching beneath the blankets.

"Training. I woke early, so..."

"And you didn't let me accompany you?"

"You were sleeping. I know better than to interrupt that."

Hm. Yes. Fair enough.

Loki pulled back the corner of the blanket, making his intentions clear.

"I was just going to bathe actually."

"No..."

Thor laughed at little at his plaintive tone, coming closer but not nearly close enough.

"You'd be very welcome to join me."

Leave the warmth of bed in favour of the washroom?

He watched Thor pull off his tunic, an old one, faded from use, those plains of pink skin, a few muscles twitching from exertion still.

Well, then again...

He'd gotten used to a warm bed since Thor's temperature regulation slipped when he slept and the cool air was refreshing against his skin, sharpening his desire.

They'd had a whole new washroom built, perfect for two, a new big bathing pool that Thor was calmly filling, so confident that Loki would come scampering through.

It was strange how the body that had shocked him so before was now so normal and alluring. He loved the changes in his skin, the way it moved from pale to pink, the golden hair that dusted it, the blue veins that were so close to his old colour, like part of the past still clung to him physically as well as mentally.

He knew Thor still struggled with it occasionally. Not looking the way he expected, the way he used to.

Just meant Loki had to help him feel more secure.

He ran his fingers down Thor's spine, gentle, watching him roll his shoulders with happy shivers, a sweet little hum in his throat.

"Have you worn yourself out?" Loki murmured.

"Kept a little back for you."

In a flash, he had seized Loki round the waist and placed him on the edge of the bath, waiting for a moment before stepping between his parted legs. A tiny pause, checking this was alright, as if he could have mistaken Loki's advances.

Loki loved being lifted and moved like that. It made him feel delicate and precious even though they were of a height. He arched into Thor, holding onto him, gently kissing the first piece of skin he could reach and then tilting his head to find Thor's mouth.

Of course, getting out of his light sleepwear was troublesome, having to hold himself up while Thor pulled the breeches off and left them unceremoniously on the floor, hopefully out of the way of any wayward splashing.

He loved seeing Thor's arousal grow. Knowing that he was the cause, that he was wanted back just as strongly as he wanted, loved the way Thor's eyes changed. The black part in the middle grew so big, like the night sky, like an eclipse.

"Bath's going to overflow."

Ah, yes. The water was already lapping at his fingers, lukewarm, a compromise between their preferred temperatures that wouldn't overwhelm either of them.

Loki swung himself over the side as Thor stopped the water, slipping in to his chest and watching Thor's approach, pulling his hair from its braid, his cock bobbing gently with each movement.

He vaulted over the side, raising the water level significantly, meeting Loki in the middle and resuming just where they had left off their kissing.

Though he said it himself, Loki thought they were getting rather better at it. Gentler but passionate, letting what felt good guide them.

But that wasn't all Loki wanted. A vague inclination had turned to impatience, pulling Thor towards him, walking backwards until his skin was against the side.

"How do you want it?"

"Now."

Thor laughed, openly joyful, reaching between Loki's legs to find his opening and making certain that he really was sure before lining up and pushing in...

Oh, that first press was always so strange. Didn't hurt anymore usually, now he wasn't so nervous about it, but that feeling of being stretched and full...

He wrapped his legs around Thor's body, his arms around his neck, bracing his weight against the side, already breathing heavily.

And then Thor began to move, slowly at first but speeding up. It was difficult in the water, or different certainly, little whirlpools forming around them as Loki tried to push forward into each thrust.

He didn't have much leverage though. Had to rely on Thor to provide the pace.

Fortunately, he was pretty good at that. Loki could luxuriate in being taken care of, in kissing the sighs from Thor's lips, in the pulses of sensation rolling through his body.

And he could only moan appreciatively when Thor planted one hand firmly on his hip and reached beneath the water to stroke his cock.

"Mm?"

"Mm-hm..."

The water certainly added something. A new sensation. Immersion and being surrounded, a strange texture.

Oh, he was growing close and Thor knew it, panting with effort but not even thinking of slowing down. They knew each other too well, knew each other's bodies.

So Loki knew when Thor was about to spill from the way he moaned, the way his grip tightened.

Even though he hadn't done much of the effort, he still felt a flash of pride.

_I did that._

Was it ridiculous that that was the thought that pushed him over the edge? Maybe. Still, as he cried out and clung desperately to Thor's body, he wasn't exactly in the mood for introspection.

The warmth of Thor's hands - his spell slipped during sex as well sometimes - was comforting, soothing him back to reality gently.

"I love you," he murmured.

Loki sighed happily against his neck. His oldest friend. His dearest love. His husband. Gold hair tickling his face, pink skin in his field of vision. Different, but still Thor. Always Thor.

"Love you too."


End file.
